Ornate Peacock
by BEL-ALOU
Summary: After Running from Orochimaru's grasp, the snake failing to uphold his promise, Sasuke has taken root to a new life of a 'Courtesan' the need to stand upon his own two feet ever clearer. But when a familiar face finds his wherabouts...Ita/Sasu Uchihacest
1. Chapter 1 Sweet Prologue

Welcome to our first ficcie miccie

Welcome to our first ficcie miccie. We hope you all enjoy this story!

We shall proceed to cry tears of our own blood in glasses and then sell it on E-bay.

Good god, we hope we get a good price on the stuff.

If not.

It'll be light bulbs Going BOOOOOOMMMMMMMSSSIIEEE anyway, please enjoy this story, as we will probably be vomiting our own spleens on this bloody thing trying to keep Itachi and Sasuke in bloody freakin character. My hearts already trying to beat itself to death. (HOMG WORD PLAY play with words please)

Oh Yes! Please keep in mind we do not own Naruto (See any rabid, sexually frustrated Uchihas ready to pounce each other, WE THINK THE BLOODY HELL NOT GAH?)

So, this is an AU where we forget anything happened between the time of the fourth Hokage's death (Oh Sarutobi, how you do remind us of a windmill, were still not sure how), and Orochimaru being his little ol snaky (yet somehow stimulatingly arousing) self. Pretend that cannon just threw itself over the bridge, and then died a most, excruciatingly, painful death! THANKIES.

(Gawd, that's a lot of words nobody's probably going to read. Let's just sit in a box of oranges and CRRRYYYYYY)

Anyway. Hope you have a happy parallel day! BE GOOD OUR DEARS!

Want a warning of non-con, and lemony limey goodness? WELL YOU AINT GONNA GET ONE CAUSE YOU SHOULDA READ THE BLOODY SUMMARY!! unless your randomly throwing the mouse around the screen and clicked.

Holy moly.

I gotta try that one out.

**3 **

**Alouette&Belette**

"_**Im pretty sure it's perverted to read peoples minds"**_

It all seemed so out of character for him. So, somewhat, well. Personally, if one was to tell previous (Konoha) village that Sasuke Uchiha was going to reduce himself to that of a mere brothel boy, they would have sworn their right kidney it would (could) never ever, ever never happen. Not in a million sworn years. Oh hell no. no way in hell was Sasuke, the ever poncy, the I-could-blow-a-freakin-hole-in-your-skull-if-you-even-look-at-me-one-way-or-the-other prancing, purebred pony in the stables sort of guy.

Someone obviously would have lost a kidney to some kidney seller.

"WHO WANTS A KIDNEY?"

"A KIDNEY?!"

"Did he just say a kidney?"

"Holy shit. He said a bloody kidney"

"…that's so incredibly skewed that Im tempted to buy it."

And yet, it was even harder to believe Sasuke had reduced himself to the scent of a mere whore. (What wonder led, that such a word also felt similar in its presence and sound of 'hoard')

How, why, where, who? All these questions would have laden some sort of significance of the situation that he had now delved himself into, head first, but still, it was all in desperation, all of it. Every last step of it. From toes, to knees, to every bloody piece of vein lay strewn across the expanses of his body. He hadn't completely opened to the concept, per-say, but he hadn't completely 'hated' it at the same time. When the man had come foreword with his, to some extent 'seedy' prospect. The fact that the job seemed easy, doable (No pun intended, please patrons, refrain from twitching) and seemingly highly profitable job (in which the importance of this job was the fact it included 'wealth' and that, in its own, was enough for Sasuke to nod his head, and then lower it, bow it to the debauchery of what he had just openly embraced wholeheartedly.

Arms wide open, as if to say;

'Take whatever piece you want of me, I am completely open to it'

What had led him here, and what had ultimately been his forceful push towards the disgrace (that he, not so alone, agreed that this job was of such a status) of selling the one thing his little pounding heart relied on.

His body.

Luckily, ironically, in brothels such as these, such as every one everywhere (He had not heard of a brothel that sold peoples souls, apart from the ones called 'Relationships')

One only needed to be beautiful, and be able to flaunt it, with such grace of a dainty, lithe male, highly wrought peacock.

He looks at you, gazes, the brilliant, seemingly tentative brilliance of his colours that lavishly dance across in groups, and sudden bursts of exuberance that played upon the visual concept. Once you have had a small, preview of taste, it is then that you pay higher of your patience and wealth that he will twirl, and his tail feathers open lovingly and spread themselves before you, wantonly, you want to touch, and yet somehow. You feel the closeness of breaking to the point of drowning in such brilliance.

Saturated in the peacock's brilliance, the tail feathers, the colours (Painful aches and pains) are departed from your sight, and you can only think of what it would be like to touch. And lavish your body in it.

Sasuke had been known to most of his clients, and the other whores around him as the 'Ornate Peacock' he was by far, the more silent brooder of them. Though most of the patrons of the patrons (the sellers, the givers, the breakers, the insanity reducers) were to take on a psyche, a persona if you shall call it such to appease the taste of the patron. They take a good look at the patron entering, and deduce the options.

Flirter, seducer, pretty, ditzy, simple, intelligent, deadly, forgotten, dying, sickly, innocent, naïve, too-knowledgeable, bitch of bitches and so on so forth.

Sasuke would neither put on a personality (much to the owners dismay) or act like himself. He would simply lay there, and allow whatever the patron wanted to lay upon his poor body (he had no soul to watch anymore) in a way it was neither a hindrance to his job or countered the patrons interest in him.

He was the stone cold boy who allowed whatever to happen, who never forced anything. Sometimes, he appeared a doll. If he felt like acting, he would. But usually not many ever witnessed the seducing side he had hidden beneath his lithe exterior of a shell.

Because of this mysterious, shadowed, unparallel aura sauntering around his prescence,he had become one of the most highly wanted, and viewed, beloved of all whored out bodies, and personas out of the entire village (what was its name again?) He would have to remind himself someday) he had soon risen to the status of 'Oiran' only a few of the boys, or girls had ever risen to such a 'flowered' (1) status. He no longer had to subject himself to common folk, but that of the noble, the rich, and the pockets that spewed gold from its silk embroidered edges. He no longer had to be subjected to thatched kimono's, and opened collars that had obviously been stained by a many a patron's semen as ever.

He, was desired by only the wealthy, the rich, the ones who deserved to exist in his own head, his own ticking skull. Sasuke no longer was a brothel whore, but an Oiran of the esteemed 'Akai Kamome'. The most sought after Oirans existed in this place, this little house of heaven, where the angels lay asleep before you, the cushions plush, gold, red, blooming colours, so ironically suited to the name of 'Oiran'.

Sasuke had shown his worth, more worth than what a mere 'body-seller' could ever hope to achieve. He had shown he was more than just a pretty face, a pretty shiny shell to fuck.

An Oiran wasn't just a person who sold her/his love to men, but sold so much more than what they could hope to find in the real world! Oh, so much more in a person! Arts, music, dancing, calligraphy and the beloved of all arts, ever to hope, one could ever achieve but that of conversational wit. The art of sophistication in ones own speech topics, the ability to counter every little dribbled word someone else had to say.

Luckily, for Sasuke, only the highest rank could ever hope to patronise him. If they had the money, then they had the worth of him presenting subtle, yet glamorous entertainment their way. An Oiran never accepted casual clients, which was far from appropriate of the learned etiquette. They were summoned by Feudal lords, or people of higher standing that that of a commoner. A formal invitation was needed.

Oh the beauty of his dance, the beauty of his speech. It was unrivalled. And he had no question as to why he was doing this.

This was far better, than being torn asunder by the ANBU, or questioned by the knuckle-headed (why knuckle?) bright coloured blonde, Naruto.

He had run away from a person he was selling his body to.

To only be welcomed with open arms, and begging pleas to once again, sell his body for (at least) something more materialistic.

"OH MY! Im sorry Uchiha-sama…"

Once again, the butterfingered boy (Butter? How appropriate) had dropped the porcelain in appearances powder on the tatami mats. The powder glints scattering like marbles in a game of maki. Sasuke sighed, for what seemed to be the more countless time of the lot and shifted slightly, to ease the numbing pain of kneeling on his knees for what seemed to be…well, an eternity to be the more least extravagant on its effect. He had become use to the kneeling, as an Oiran is expected to be, but never the less, getting use to something doesn't exactly mean it doesn't cease to have its feral effect on you.

Oumu brought a cloth to the ground in a hurried state of panic, and Sasuke never failed to find amusement in watching him twitch, Oumu was a boy with little confidence. Sometimes, he would pretend he did have what it took to take the more 'dominating' of patrons in conversation. But when that had come to a startling somewhat, vile halt. Oumu got moved to what he was still pretty horrid at.

Attending to the Oiran's needs.

Sasuke told himself on countless occasions he needn't have anyone at his side whilst making himself up. But the makeup of an Oiran had proved to himself, which it was highly an impossible feat. Even to such a prodigy as Uchiha. And so, Oumu became his right hand, in a sense. He did everything Sasuke could not. (Sasuke fumed at the curator when he said such a phrase, in such a way as if insulting Sasuke's ability)

"Uchiha-sama, I truly am sorry. Please forgive me!" Oumu wavered, and shaked in apologetic bows.

This was truly starting to get frustrating. If only Sasuke had sixty five billion arms.

What the hell?

"Yeah, Okay, Oumu, apology accepted. Just hurry up with it all right?" Sasuke huffed out, annoyed, wavered in his patience (when did he ever have any patience in his stance? Oh that's right.)

Oumu bowed once more, and proceeded to clean the remains of the white powder off the mats. Sasuke adjusted his obi, tightening the strings, and the floral embroidered silk (Oh fit for a prince!) the good part about being a high class courtesan was that everything about your life seemed to fit based around the high class life. Sasuke drank high class Sake, Rice, Noodles, Soba, Sukiyaka, Miso and green tea. He wore high class garments of silk and embroidered decorations of undergarments and such. (If only you could see the under clothing of such an Oiran…Oh! the delights, and deluded fantasies that grew)

Sasuke would never admit it. He liked the high class life. He enjoyed being pampered. It was the attention he had denied himself for such a long, long life. Perhaps, to fit a hole that had been gaping for something more…

Human.

Who knew, at least Sasuke felt like he was doing something, other than just watching the days pass by where he just simply waited for his revenge to come to him in a gold gilded platter.

Sasuke's fists tightened around his kimono and his sense seethe red his thoughts. That man was still out there, oh yeas, Sasuke had not forgotten about him. He was doing this because of him, that much was for sure.

Itachi would die. He would fall red to the ground, his heart leaping, and bounding across a wooden floor of the Uchiha district, like a fish out of water.

The clan's ghosts would watch him die bountifully; his blood would bathe against the moonlit sky that hounded Sasuke's nightmares (Dreams).

Sasuke raised his head and looked into the mirror of his room. He hadn't changed much. He was still 12. And he was still alive. And he was still aching with revenge chipped solidly inside his tiny beating muscle.

"Uchiha-Sama?" Oumu's nervous ridden voice awoke Sasuke to a state of reality. (What was the bleeding difference?)

Sasuke twisted his neck slightly and looked over at Oumu who was busy finishing the V shaped nape insinuatingly accentuating the beauty of Sasuke's swan like neck. Sasuke had already highlighted porcelain features when it came to his skin; he almost appeared so pale in his skin texture that the white makeup hardly were to be noticeable by any detail driven entity.

No wonder men adored him so much. He was almost more mechanical as a naturally born, prodigy of a beautiful portrait of a boy.

Oumu once again delicately, still with the noticeable shake in his right hand which egged Sasuke into a corner of annoyance in such delicate details of the human psyche. The cold freshness of the mixture of white paint, and waxy substances calmed Sasuke's nerves and dealt him a pleasurable experience of rest, and relaxed quality.

"Uchiha-Sama?"

"Yes?" Sasuke replied, almost monotonously.

Oumu dipped the brush into the palette and made sure he hadn't missed any important details of the painting and began.

"What's it like to have- we-well...yo-"Stuttering? Great. Now he was stuttering again.

Just bloody awesome.

Life rocked. (Throw rocks life, please…)

"What?" Sasuke made no attempts to hide any annoyed tonality of his voice.

Oumu placed the small brush into its original form of rest, and placed the combination of palette and brush back into the painted box alongside pins, mixtures, and other bone lead combs. He twiddled his fingers together, and blushed a bright red, looked up at Sasuke and then to the side.

"Yo-You know, th-that thing-"

"What thing? Oumu be clear about what youre asking or otherwise don't say anything at all" Sasuke snapped.

By now the babies would be crying for a swift suicide. (Extravagant? Sasuke was an extravagant person by nature, by birth, by profession…)

Oumu jumped and quivered, whimpering in apologies.

Sasuke closed his eyes and started to toy with the obi's fabric attempting to tighten the pressure it presented.

"You want to know what sex is like, right?" Sasuke spoke, more matter of fact than 'I already knew what you meant'

Oumu blushed, giggled softly and nodded slowly. Sasuke swivelled around adding at least some lessened pressure on his knees on the Tatami mat facing Oumu. Sasuke's black berried eyes gazed into the green of Oumu's shutter ridden windows. His soul was so, wholesome. So unadulterated. No one had toyed with his feelings; no one had decided to rip his own heart graciously out of his drenched chest and proceeded to swallow it, dumping it to the belly of the beast.

Sasuke felt the pang of envy once. He didn't need it again.

Sasuke crossed his arms and looked intensely at Oumu; expectantly Oumu did his usual shaky, twitchy lips. And his thumbs twiddled once again.

"Well. It's like someone's cleaving you in two, the first time. Your ripped apart, torn asunder, and there are no sorrys, no time for 'oh wait's. You burn; the feeling of being filled is almost as harsh, cold and painful as stabbing your own skull with a kunai."

Sasuke looked Oumu in the eye the whole time through such an excruciatingly, realistic tale of untruthful passion, and lessened decoration of sex.

Sex was sex to Sasuke, it neither meant something, or meant uselessness. It had its uses. Making children, making families (Which were destined to break, and fall, tumble away) and pleasure which appeared to him, so dearly one sided on half a platter of silver and rust. Oumu's reaction was crestfallen hope.

Sasuke chuckled at the hopefulness of the youthful Oumu. His hopes that it was a pleasurable experience. If only. Over time, sex became mechanical. Like eating, or drinking, or walking, it was just something you did. Not something you wanted to do, but had to do if you were to get anywhere. It seemed all that much important. And yet Sasuke held it in such, depression, and such monotonal care.

Sasuke read it as one thing.

Penis goes in, thrust a few times, and then cum inside or on someone's face or mouth.

That was all there ever were to be.

Sasuke had become so good at the mechanical disguise of sexual tendencies that he sometimes forgot it was happening. His mind wandered, but still he remained faithful to the task before him.

The Shoji screen door slid open and a fellow Oiran appeared from the doors cover.

"Uchiha, Kyouken-dono wants to speak to you"

Sasuke nodded and Oumu simply stared, obviously more exalted in the way the Shoji screen moved than anything else.

The Lady with the painted lips stared at Oumu, her nose high and her eyes cat like, a panther looking at a ladybug.

"And pray tell, where is your manners, Oumu-chan??" she bled out, her fine lips curved into a satirical sense of the word 'serious'.

Oumu's skin brightened beneath his eyes, rushed up in a less than graceful way and bowed apologetically, as low as his back deemed it able to. The Oiran with the painted lips simply scowled at him and softly closed the screen, Oumu breathing harshly, nervous sweats breaking across his skin, and littering its complexion.

Sasuke smirked and once again rearranged the obi so it tightened in restriction. He liked it tight, because it never appeared quite, tight enough for him. The obi's bow at the front was once again fondled with by his delicate artisan like fingers.

"You shouldn't let her get to you, you know" Sasuke turned to Oumu.

Oumu's gaze remained towards the shoji screen, his eyebrows wavering in defeat, a pout evident and disappointment glancing from the windows of his glassy eyed skull. He then lowered himself to sitting beside Sasuke and he toyed with the hem of his Yukata. The pale blue little stitched rabbits prancing in glee across the edges were a pretty touch.

"I can't help but feel…not quite to their level" Oumu whispered.

Sasuke looked at Oumu; the poor boy wasn't at their level. That was as true as ever. And everyone could see it.

"Well. No point whining about it, is there?" Sasuke stood and brushed his Kimono down, the patterns prancing and dancing about the folds, and material wrinkles. Oumu gazed up towards Sasuke as he gracefully flowed across the floor with the abundance of grace. Sasuke walked in his geisha steps towards the shoji screen, slid it open with his 4 cms of pale perfection and left the fragranced room.

"SASUKE-KUN!!"

The older man roared once Sasuke appeared as a shadow behind the door. Sasuke knelt before the door, but before he could place fingers the screen, the door flew open, crashed against the walls, shattered, paper flying in every direction, and the olde man upon Sasuke like a cat to a dog's hind. Sasuke's not so surprised at this direction of action from the man was certainly evident, and he made no attempt to pry the man off him.

He was so use to this treatment by the man that he lost the reflex to scream and chidori his ass out into next week.

The human mind was a weird and wondrous thing.

"AHH! There's my first class budding beauty!!" Kyouken praised Sasuke as he threw his arms to Sasuke's shoulders and held him at arms length, only to proceed to throw in a hug once more.

"WELCOME UCHIHA!"

"UCHIHA! WELCOME!"

Sasuke just sighed and knitted his eyebrows together in a subtly annoyed fashion.

Huddled close together on top of Kyouken's oak desk were two ninja gulls. Their expanse of their feathers were grey, with black smudges upon their dutiful wings. Their eyes beady and appeared to many a person as though thickened plots lay strewn in a messy area of their small brains. Their eyes were bright gold, and their webbed feet were orange. The one annoying thing about them was their tendencies to repeat what the other said.

Backwards.

This just added to frustration of having to put up with the exasperating birds.

When Sasuke had entered they flapped their wings, lifted their pale necks and squawked their wings waving in a seemingly human like tendency of hello, and goodbye.

Shiro and Kuro were the titles they held upon their labels of names. Personally, Sasuke didn't agree that they were the most original of names. But, alas. He needn't complain.

He hoped the curator got makeup smudged on his stubby cheek.

Kyouken was a tall man. He was broad shouldered and a quite, beautifully built man. His fame for having mixtures of Victorian fashioned clothing, and antiquities of furniture and other curios in question was never doubted, or missed. He enjoyed mixing everything around him. He wore a black silk kimono with silver butterflies at the edges, moulding into the higher figuring of the kimono. He wore a fur lined open coat over it and kept a fan at his hand and side everywhere, or place he went. His hand was never devoid of a paper fan usually with some kind of story behind the bloody thing.

Upon his feet he wore high levelled traditional Japanese sandals. With fluff poms atop the cross between the big toe and the second toe.

Kyouken, as his name suggested, was a rabid, mad, dog. And there was no other metaphor to ever describe him as such.

When Kyouken finally let go of Sasuke he looked Sasuke over, and his grin grew. Who knew such a feat were possible to ever witness.

The world never ceased of miracles.

"What do you want?" Sasuke managed to pass between his lips before the man hugged the dear life out of his chest again.

Kyouken smiled greatly, opened one his fans in his right hand, waved it across his face and Sasuke could only watch as the moons, and the suns, the rabbits, and the ponies pranced across the ceramic coloured paper. the fragrance of vanilla passed through the room, on Kyouken's oak desk, chiselled into its front scenes of wolves leaping through flower laden fields, the moon gloating above them in the sky, wolves lay strewn across the walls, small scenes of hunting wolves, wolves at men's throats, wolves described by painters, and paintings with blood gorging from the flaps of their lips, the upturned snarl, and the bearing of teeth.

Lamps and statues of ornate dragons sat littered at the corners of the room. The faint scent of sunshine filtered through the small round window and the chandelier above them twinkled among the light given by the sun.

Kyouken jumped up, snapped his fans together and pointed it at Sasuke.

"YOU! MY DEAR! HAVE A NEW FORMAL INVITATION!!"

… oh wohoo.

…oo cliff-hanger?

(1) This is a pun for the word 'Oiran' or, more so the kanji used to create the word. Oiran consists of the kanji for 'Flower' and 'First' and so, well. Yeah.


	2. Chapter 2

Because reality fails to interest us…

Because reality fails to interest us…

**3 **

**Alouette&Belette**

_Kyouken jumped up, snapped his fans together and pointed it at Sasuke._

"_YOU! MY DEAR! HAVE A NEW FORMAL INVITATION!!"_

…_oh wohoo._

The crowd was dainty, pale, and fat mixed with petitely thin. This was a crowd of mumbled, incoherent formalities, and honorific's before names, and after. The beautiful, the wealthy, the depressed and the noble of all human beings sat. Gathered around an incense stick of Kanzō. The liquorice scent wafted about the room, filling corners, cracks as it so dutifully pleased its spaces with. Legs were folded underneath the low tables, silk cushions crushed by the royal behinds.

It was a place where many questions were asked, and yet, many questions needn't be answered, simply because of the fact the achievement pleasure was the main principle in this house.

Somehow, Kisame had forced him to come here. Somehow, he had got stuck inside the confines of the two story building. With the kanji of 'Akai Kamome' it certainly had the air of a heightened etiquette about it. Being born into the Uchiha family, etiquette was perhaps one of the most important, if not highly taught, sport that was to be achieved if you stemmed from the prestigious family of the fan.

To be able to flaunt your power not only by winning, but by doing it with the utmost grace a person could ever achieve. That was true power of the Uchiha crest.

Itachi silently sipped, daintily (he fit so well into this place it frightened him) at the green tea, the beautifully painted cup covered by 6 inches of unstained, heavenly fingerprinted skin. His lips took in the texture, and taste as he swallowed the last lot of it.

"Nice place we found ourselves, huh Itachi-sama?" Kisame grinned sharkily (Puns certainly do not achieve anything.)

Itachi stayed silent and looked into his empty cup. It was nice. For sure it was beautiful.

Kisame's eyes wandered over the young, pretty girls that were littered across, and before the room. Dutifully filling cups, speaking of high elaborate wit, and highly strung sentences filled with comments of 'oh, I certainly agree' and 'my, have you grown?' (The pun behind this, is the fact and reason of what they truly mean behind the simple instance of asking such a phrase)

"Hmmm…it's hard to pick out of all these pretty girls…" Kisame chuckled and downed his tea. The shark certainly treated his prey like a slab of meat. And so he should, it was instinct for a man, to a certain extent.

Kisame looked at Itachi and he placed his elbow on the table leaning across to Itachi, Itachi's cobalt eyes switched from the dent in the wall to Kisame's pierced shallow eyes.

"So?"

Itachi gazed.

"So?"

Kisame laughed and then pushed closer towards Itachi.

"We going to grab some action? Or would you rather not?" Kisame's mind certainly had a one track going to the village of intimacy and sexual regime. Though Itachi would rather not know how he managed such a feat.

Itachi looked at Kisame, and then to his cup, examining the bottomless emptiness. (A heart?)

"You do what you will. I'll stay here." He replied with monotone care expressed.

Kisame shrugged and then raised himself from the ground towards the counter to arrange some sort of girl to be sent to his quarters. The Akai Kamome also played its role as a hotel. But in only a small sense. Contained within it was a tea house, and what they called the self-contained pleasure quarters. Which were the most desired quarters of them all. Which offered all manner of entertainment to high paying guests.

The ages of the Oiran and maids or Oiran in training differed from what Itachi could see. The youngest he had encountered seemed around 14. but it seemed that this house not only indulged to hire females, but boys as well. Though the possibility of one mistakening one of the boys for a female was extremely probable. They were feminine, pouty lips and blossomed cheeks. Their bright, large eyes trickled with make up, and the beauty contained in this palace was immense, unrivalled.

What came around the corner of his eye, he did not expect.

His peripheral vision somehow had spotted this exact figure, something told him 'Look. Now.' He felt the need, the burning, growing desire within his nagging belly to look and look he did.

Itachi's eyes widened at the sight.

"Sasuke…"

What appeared before his sight was the one, and only ever.

His little brother. Sasuke Uchiha.

Itachi could not (would not?) believe his eyes, he blinked. Again, again. Good god this could hardly sustain any sense of reality to such a situation. Itachi's fingers twitched, his mind running in circles.

What on earth was Sasuke doing in a place like this? Itachi questioned inside his skull.

Before him was Sasuke. His pale face, heightened in porcelain colour with the Oiran makeup. His lips cherry, dripping red. And his hair was clipped with red beads, and a cluster of Daisy flowers lay strewn at the corner of his ear. A retinue of servants followed him, as he walked past, he could tell, that Sasuke was more than a worker here.

He had become an Oiran. A servant boy to these men. To these nobles, an entertainer of fine quality.

A toyer of hearts, a little troublemaker in sexual production.

Itachi's eyes followed his little brothers geisha steps, his kimono tight around his lithe body (still as baby like as ever) a ribboned obi sash tightly twined around his feminine waist as he shifted to and fro graciously, and gracefully. They were right about Oiran.

They were walking pieces of art. And Sasuke seemed like a heightened version of this anomaly.

Itachi's hands had clenched tightly, and he had hardly noticed at all how tightly he had clenched. A small trickle of blood sewed itself across his pale skin, his violet painted nails covered in crimson. Itachi took his napkin and quickly wiped the blood away, once he looked up Sasuke had disappeared from the shop.

Itachi thought he had told Sasuke to live hating him, despising him, train, and train Sasuke, to kill him. And here Sasuke was trained to suck up to rich men, and heed to their wishes. Whether vice or virtue. Itachi had a nagging feeling there was a little more to this story that what met the eye, he wasn't happy, to say the least to see Sasuke selling himself. Itachi had thought he had taught Sasuke a little bit more morality than that.

Itachi thought Sasuke had already sold all he had to him. His mind. Soul. His body, though it appeared. Had already been sold.

Perhaps he had been waited too late for that piece of property.

This just irked Itachi into wanting to break the table.

Oh woe, the table is taking most of the brunt, if that does happen.

Perhaps Sasuke had forgotten just who exactly taught him the things he now had put to practice on the men.

Itachi raised his hand to motion one of the waitresses.

A boy, who appeared at quite a youthful age, hardly appropriate, came to his beck and silent call.

"Yes sir? Can I help you?"

Well obviously. Otherwise Itachi wouldn't have bothered with raising his hand. Foolish boy.

"Yes, who was that boy who just left now?" Itachi queried towards the boy.

The boy, his hair shortened at the back, black and glossy in bangs over his face looked towards the exit Itachi had spoken of and smiled downwards to Itachi.

"O-Oh! That's the 'Ornate Peacock'-

'Ornate Peacock?' Seemingly…appropriate in more sense than one only Itachi knew of.

"-he's one of the high class Oiran, a-and he's quite popular!"

Itachi gave placed a coin in front of the boys face and the boys small hands happily gobbled it up. The boy bowed, as low as his back deemed it possible.

"Thankyou, your name boy?" Itachi asked with a flick of his wrist to the air.

The boy smiled, his green eyes highlighted by the sun filtered light that strewn itself across the room and replied with a gracious bow of the head and a shake of the hair.

"Oumu, sir"

Itachi mentally noted it down, perhaps in his investigation he could trust the boy with a little more than coins. And he looked readily open to accept any wealth he could get his hands on.

This might just work in Itachi's favour. If Sasuke was willing to sell his body to men, then Itachi was allowed to sell his money for an insider.

After all.

All's fair in love and war.

The difference between them was absolute zilch.

This game that Itachi was beginning to weave was starting to find a firmer form than that of a mental plan.

Sasuke returned from the night of entertaining, fine sake, almost drunk patrons who constantly graced his thigh with strikes, and upturned looks of seductive pleasure (the stale stench of their intoxicated mouth made the scene even more pitiful and unscrupulous than ever)

Sasuke removed his geta sandals; the height of them phenomenally attractive to patrons, the heel was disastrously painful at times though. Sasuke put up with it. Hell, he had put up with being alone his entire short life, so he could deal with high plat formed sandals at least.

He left his geta at the door and then entered the servants that followed him towards his destination left, giggling, twirling, and half drunk on the alcoholic fumes.

Idiots.

Sasuke groaned from the sounds of feminine wile and opened the screen to his quarters. He stepped in, sharply closed the door and sat down upon the floor, slowly sinking into its harshness.

He sighed, and began to undo his obi sash, the ribbon at the front made it so much more obviously easier to get the bloody thing off. But, because it was at the front gave off the idea that he sold himself. Which was true enough of course, and he wasn't going to deny that, but it still sank his pride into a gut of nothingness. And that pained him as far as anything.

After removing the sash and chucking the thing somewhere in the room, he removed the obi and then proceeded to allow the silk layers of kimono to slide calmly, smoothly, like the voice that sinks into the skin, the pores leaking calm exterior, down his shoulders it began to dissipate towards his milky waist, down the curves of his (oh so painfully feminine) creamy waist and it reached towards the bottom of his rear.

Sasuke courteously rose up from the ground and stepped out of the restraining silks, and cloths. Naked and bare Sasuke stood in his room as the moonlit streaking of lit thread struck the skin of his shell. He bathed in it as it ran its loving hands down his body. Sasuke let out a sigh and began to soothe the sore muscles in his shoulder from sitting up so straight, and tense. The tension stringing the wrong chords in his muscles as they seized up haphazardly.

His small, delicate child like hand rubbed his muscles, skin atop the bleeding franchise.

"What am I doing…?" Sasuke whispered,

Even to him, what he was admitting himself to was still of question. Sure, it was the first place that offered him a job, but still, he had spent what seemed an entire lifetime in the place, serving, and being served by others. He was the youngest Oiran here by far, and one of the most sought out.

He told himself, each night before he lay down to close the shutters of his delicate eyelids that he was doing this to get back up on his feet by himself.

He didn't need anyone's help.

And by hell wasn't going to agree to anyone's company.

He would do, what had to be done.

Naruto, Sakura, Kakashi…he didn't need either of them.

And he sure as hell burned devastatingly, needed Itachi-nisan.

Didn't he?

"Oh Man you should have seen the legs on that girl!" Kisame roared as he sat in his cushion beside the window with a cup of sake in his hand, and onigiri in the other.

"Kisame"

"Eh? What is it Itachi-sama?" Kisame placed his sake on the table before him.

"You remember my baby brother?" Itachi sat upon the sheepskin, lushness of his futon as he looked towards his perfectly painted fingernails.

Kisame's ears twitched and this all began to sound very interesting indeed to his shark like state.

"How could I forget? Sparky, right?" Kisame chuckled at the nickname and took a swig of his sake.

Itachi nodded and then without batting a single, lush, black eyelash his lips opened painfully again.

"He's working here"

Kisame's drink proceeded to greet the tatami mat with a splash (Puns will most certainly die one of these days) Kisame looked at Itachi, his eyes wide, unbelieving and his smile in a parody of a grin.

"Youre kidding me…who knew he had it in him? HAH!" Kisame could only belch out a roar of glee, and amusement at the sudden state of the baby Uchiha.

"So, what's he doing? Waiting on people?" Kisame leaned against the table with arms on the well oiled surface; reflections gleefully darted across the surface.

Itachi looked at Kisame and gazed, his red sharingan crimson to the touch, and burning to the sight.

"He's an Oiran"

Once again. If Kisame's previous drink hadn't met an untimely death with a splash, then it certainly would have crushed through the floor, and bashing against the thick skull of some unsuspecting patron enjoying, rough, hard sexual conquest with another.

"…Good god."

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we are very hopeful that we are writing this okay. Our hearts bleeeddddddddd in fear!! GAHNESSS


	3. Chapter 3

We are very sorry that we didn't explain the role of an Oiran

We are very sorry that we didn't explain the role of an Oiran. All right, here goes!

Oiran were basically high-class courtesans of the Yoshiwara pleasure district in Edo (Tokyo) around the time of 1600-1868. They offered all kinds of entertainment, very similar to the Geisha. The difference between Oiran and Geisha's were the fact that Oiran not only gave a patron entertainments of the arts, but also sexual favours towards the patrons. They wore their obi at the front so it was easy to take off, and tie back on.

We hope that clears that up, their Japanese high class escorts basically, but everything was a lot more etiquette driven compared to a western escort.

We're glad everyone is enjoying the story!

**3**

_**Alouette&Belette**_

_**LINELINELINELINE LINELINELINELINE LINELINELINELINE **_

_Sasuke was a lithe boy._

_A small boy._

_A baby boy._

_A child, compared to that of a teenager, an adult, underage to liquor, to sex._

_Was there such thing as overage to it all?_

_Sasuke was 7 when he first experienced the ecstasy, the ticking time bomb of human tense desire, oh woe, he was at such a young age, and yet in many cultures 7 was ripe to ascertain that the throne your father caressed, held, embraced was right for you._

_Hail human desire, hail natures intention, hail it all little child._

_BOOM_

_Sasuke whimpered, the sheet shook in his hands, bringing it closer above his face, over his head, in a sea of cotton futon, the mosquito net liquored around his bed, against the floor, futile sheets to movement, and soggy clothing of sweat. Sasuke attempted to escape the horrible reality of that, which was the fact grey clouds, seemingly harmless welts of air, created such, incredible bursts of ecstasy, brightness, the flashing blindness of its deep shaded light. Woe it was because child Sasuke felt it was all just too much for him._

_Sasuke whimpered once more, as a crack of lightning passed through the sky, a dragon kite through the abominable cloud man. _

_Sasuke squeezed his eyes tight, fisted the cloth, threw it apart from the descent of his skin, and then ran from his room towards the screen of the room at the end of the corridor._

_He tip-toed what seemed to be an odd mechanic of walking, and running. His pale little paper feet clambered against cold, harsh wood, he peeked into his parents room, creaks, jumps, and moans were elicit to the boys ear._

_His eyes widened, as the lightning shook the room, and he wasn't prepared of what he saw._

_His mother lay atop his father, his father below his mother. And they seemed to be screaming, a heck of a lot. Mikoto bellowed, wailed, and panted softly, almost a sheer whisper at times. His father, Fugaku looked up at her, his hands clasping for dear life on her hips, a look of pure thrill, and fancy glazed them over. Mikoto grasped at the uplifted material at her thighs as her bosom bounced against her skin, the slap of wet skin prominent. Sasuke's fingers trembled, it seemed as though his father was trying to kill his mother, and then vice versa, was this how Ninja fought? If it was, he was as ready as ever! Though, the pain was consequence he figured, Mikoto threw her head back, her hair moist, wet, lips dripping cherry red, and the sweat drooled down against her vast expanse of pale, fine skin. The smell in the room was vastly immense in its announcement._

_Sasuke took a step foreword to announce his presence, when suddenly a large, smooth hand clasped onto his mouth before he could utter a sound._

"_You shouldn't be out of bed, baby brother" whispered a warm purr against his ear._

_Sasuke was then lifted from the floor and soon carried by his aniki towards the room at the end of the corridor._

_His aniki's room._

_Itachi-niisan's room._

_A room, where everything was never questioned. A place, where questions and answers had a question, and were led by an answer. Then everything was countered, and reversal became an order._

"_Aniki!" Sasuke whined as he was deposited quite roughly onto the fur throw on Itachi's bed. A small lamp flickered in the corner on a bed stand. Sasuke looked up to Itachi, pouted his incredibly puppy soft lips, and crossed his arms furiously, standing up and almost matching his elder's height. Itachi looked down at him, darkened abyss of eyes ever grazing, ever searching. Itachi's lips seemed as though they weren't impressed, Itachi then, two fingers poised, and they met with the silk skin of Sasuke's forehead as he then went to the left side of his bed, moving the gossamer overhead, circling his futon. _

"_Baby brother, I told you that Kaa-san, and Tou-san's bedroom is off limits. Its their personal space" Itachi exclaimed with a hint of exhaust in his voice, his previous missions effects that had been put against his body the previous day had not eased. Itachi lifted the sheets and stroked the linen to remove the creases of the sheets. Everything Itachi touched seem almost as wealthy as gold._

_Sasuke watched him, and then turned towards him, chest puffed out and nose pointed to the sky._

"_I know! But I wanted to- to…to MAKE SURE THEY WERE ALLRIGHT!" Sasuke's obvious indignation countered the fact Sasuke wouldn't admit he was afraid of the storm above the house, not to his elder brother, oh hell no. that was more than off limits to someone such as Sasuke. He would rather get bitten by a Koi fish in the pond his mother maintained below the threshold of their two story house than admit defeat to fear in front of his dearly beloved, praised, oh so amazing, golden gilded brother._

_Itachi raised an eyebrow and got into his bed, softly embraced by the silk, and the cotton of the sheets in amongst the mattress of his futon._

"_All right, Baby brother. All right. Whatever you say." Itachi smiled and lay down against the crisp sheets. Turning away from Sasuke._

_Sasuke took this to heart, to an offence and decided to play a trick on his Niisan. If Itachi was going to ignore him, or at least dismiss him so easily, he had another thing coming to him, and his beautiful locks of crow black hair._

_Sasuke softly placed one foot in front of the other on the futon then downed himself to crawling against the surface. He kept his voice hushed, and breathing silent,_

'_a ninja never lets his enemies be aware of what's happening around them…'_

_Sasuke smiled, grinned, whatever you wanted to call it, his childish cheeks puffed and he crawled upwards on top of Itachi's legs, dragged his body against his thigh's, but, soon…what he didn't expect, was a tickling below the edges of his stomach, something tickled, something massaged, something felt good. Sasuke gasped heavily, then quickly slipped his hand against his mouth, as Itachi's face remained calm, rest assured in sleep._

_Something about the way Itachi's thigh had carelessly slipped against Sasuke's body, against the area between his legs, something about it made Sasuke whimper softly, and not in the way which the Lightening forced him to expel from the corners of his throat._

_Sasuke then lowered himself down Itachi's legs, and then repeated what he had done previously, dragging his entire body upwards, a hiss drowned out the silent air as the friction once more, became so, desperately evident to Sasuke. Sasuke liked it._

_It felt good. His lower half seemed to be twitching as well, he felt tight, constriction in his chestal area, and his hands itched to hold on to the white sheets. He suddenly felt an urge of total, ecstatic need in his loins that he could do nothing, but understand what his body was asking of him._

_To listen to the primal instincts, and not deny himself what felt so good._

_A child was a child. If it felt good, then it was good._

_The problem with adults, you see. Is the pleasure of feeling good; soon becomes righteous anger to everyone. So failing to suppress it causes angry frowns._

_Children were lucky; oh woe for adults when one didn't know what to do with natures gifts. _

"_Aniki…" Sasuke whimpered out as he panted softly into the air, breaths of steam escaped the wet cave of his mouth, his body began to grate itself against the soft, supple hidden flesh of Itachi's thighs, his penis became rigid against the surface, sweat began to run down the baby flesh of his thighs, hidden underneath the short, white Yukata, the ribbon holding the waist to the skin was starting to become undone, the tight, white underwear Sasuke wore became unravelled from cloth, and revealed itself, the tightness horrifically, deliciously sinful against Sasuke's rigid penis. _

"_Nngh…" Sasuke began to more ferociously hump his groin against Itachi's pelvic bone, Sasuke's body had risen upwards to Itachi's groin area. Sweat ran down Sasuke's face, he couldn't understand what was going on, why their appeared a cramp in his stomach, and yet there was no yielding pain to speak of, to touch of, nothing but a feeling of wanting to be let free._

_Sasuke's head fell towards Itachi's._

_Itachi's__ eyes were open._

_The red sharingan simply, dutifully, beautifully grazing the surface of his iris._

_Sasuke looked, he felt shamed with himself, but, for some unbidden reason, he couldn't stop. Sasuke wound his arms around Itachi's neck, and continued on with the gyrating actions of his hips, the harsh hardness in his underwear hurt, and he wanted to be free of them._

_Itachi remained still, lying there, emotionless as he felt his little brother bite down onto his neck, his small, baby like body happily grating against his own adult body. Sasuke's pants came out harsh, and yet whisper like. The room was hot with the heat of it all, he could hear Sasuke whimpering, whining his name like a sweet liquorice straw to the mouth. Itachi's hands itched, and they raised themselves,_

_Whatever Itachi did now._

_Would instigate the worst of situations introductions to the human world._

_He would instigate all of it._

_And yet he hadn't asked his brother to be frightened of storms, he hadn't asked his brother to go towards their parents rooms, and he hadn't asked his brother to watch, until Itachi heard Sasuke's footsteps and decided to intervene before someone got hurt. _

_(Namely the shock of being watched by your own seven year old son, and then breaking your own penis inside of your wife due to shock)_

_Having to explain certain effects to people were a hassle as well. _

_Why couldn't they figure it out on their own?_

_Fate played a little game, called web._

_Fate spins you in a web, and you have no choice but to follow it. Every little line leads somewhere, and means something, even if it is far off, in the distant present. _

_Itachi's hand decided to move all on its own._

_(So Itachi's excuses liked to think)_

_His pale hand moved underneath Sasuke's Yukata, cupping the boy's backside, one cheek in his left hand, as he squeezed it and Sasuke squealed against his neck, suddenly. It all became that much, blood pulsing down his spine, pleasure running a mile down his spinal cord, the tendrils of consciousness long left, forgotten, committing suicide slowly, dutifully._

_Against all senses of thought. _

_Itachi's hand then delved across towards Sasuke's waistband of his underwear, pushing his hand across untouched territory of his baby brother's buttocks, as the plain lay wanted, and it called to someone to not stop searching._

_His finger stroked up the line between each cheek of Sasuke's bottom. The fine, soft, and yielding skin was silk to touch. Itachi groaned in his throat and his head raised as he turned his head to the side, looked towards Sasuke's face, as Sasuke pushed his head upward from Itachi's fine shoulder. The look Sasuke was wearing was adulterously charming, seductive. He was a little courtesan to his brother's heart._

_Sasuke looked towards his brother, lust filling all wisp of the glassy iris, and the cloud of sex covering the mindset. Puffs of steam emanated from his mouth, Sasuke smiled at Itachi and whimpered when Itachi softly smacked Sasuke's bottom._

"_Niisan…it feels…funny…" Sasuke breathed._

_Itachi smiled towards his little brother, kissed his forehead, and then removed his ever wandering hand from the confines of cotton undergarments._

"_Baby brother…the things you do." Itachi chuckled, and the removed his brother from his body, placing his little brother lying on the side beside Itachi, contrary to what Sasuke wanted as Sasuke whined, pined, and needed with grasping, chubby hands as they clawed at Itachi's black Yukata. Itachi was forceful in his actions of placing Sasuke at distance from his body. Itachi would not could not take away his baby brother's innocence, the tendrils of what left Sasuke vulnerable to everything around him, sure, innocence was a virtue, but it too, held vice like qualities. His father, Fugaku called Virginity a ticking time bomb of human passion. And that you should be rid of it at a prime age in a young mans life, lest it kill you, cause you insanity to ensue towards your veins, running like a disease throughout a mans shell._

_Sasuke wasn't a man. He was a boy. And Itachi wasn't going to be the one to teach him the time bomb issue. Sasuke was in no fear of exploding due to such ideas. He was far too young to explore that sort of theories._

_Sure, Itachi couldn't lie, or never admit that Sasuke was pretty. Beautiful even, and sure, Itachi's moral inhibitions lay somewhere towards the end of no road in his life. Incest wasn't really something of a problem to him. Hardly anything was, apart from the peace that remained inside the heart shaped box of Konohagakure._

_Vices were virtues, and virtues vices. That's simply how nature worked. Nothing could counter it, or attempt to disfigure it._

_Sometimes, human species had issues admitting their own virtues being everyone else's vices._

_Itachi knew this from personal experiences._

_Some of his ANBU colleagues hadn't yet openly accepted the fact that they were attracted to young girls. Afraid of immorality, afraid of ill-society. Pretty much afraid of everything else they had learnt. _

_Itachi laid back, and quelled the excitement in his jumping, prancing pony like, beating heart as he allowed sweetest sleep to claim his sight._

_Sasuke was important to him._

_But Sasuke's virginity would remain intact, for as long as Sasuke would live._

Sasuke woke with a jolt to his brain, sweat running across his brow and the tingling in his stomach. He puffed, huffed, and let his breath all fall out.

The dream. The dream. The memory. Dreams were memories, and memories dreams. And so they all coincided with each other. Dastard things, dreams are. Sasuke's mind was proceeding to torture his psyche.

Sasuke place his hand to his forehead, and rubbed the temples of his skull.

His eyebrows creased together in anger, his brother had toyed him into thinking he was safe, the kisses, the touches, and he was young then. His brother had taken advantage; he didn't want to remember his brother once loved him. Once held him, or, perhaps, in a sick, and twisted way. His brother was never his brother. The mere façade, the gossamer of illusion that was a brother was simply a deluded, sick tactic to make the hurt sting that much more.

So much so.

That the memory countered the good, and the evil.

Sasuke cried out as the lightning crackled above his windowsill.

A bell tone sound rang from the crow bell, a piece of paper hung from the clapper of the bell. Red toned, and a small picture of a gull imprinted in the corner.

Sasuke looked up at it as the draft in the house blew on it.

These bells were given to each Oiran to write down a prayer of fortune, the wind blowing the written, internal wish to the gods.

Sasuke's remained blank.

Sasuke's black eye's looked up towards the small bell, and he frowned.

Something was happening.

Something very dangerous was coming his way, and he wasn't going to like it.

He would have to remain vigilante.

_**LINELINELINELINE LINELINELINELINE LINELINELINELINE **_

And the world just keeps on spinning!!

_**Alouette&Belette**_

Alouette&Belette


	4. Chapter 4

GWAH

GWAH? Belette here! GYAH! Alouette has been doing most of the writing here so now tis my turn to take over! MWAH!!

Oo HEEELLLOOOO

PLEASE ENJOY WHOOO!

Dontownnarutoifwedidwe'dbesostinkingrichandwe'dbehappysoblahness.

Make no sense what so ever. Meh.

OH YEAH if you'd like, please visit our uchihacest doujinshi we drew and wrote ourselves. The link is on our profile page. Im sure you all know how to get there. THANKIES.

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**Lines fail so badly**

"Let me get this straight" Kisame retorted, leaning his arm on the wooden table before him, smashed pieces of glass which previously acted as a solidified form of a glass, reflections danced upon the watery, drooping substance on the tatami mats of their apartment in the Oiran house. (Brothel sounds hardly appropriate)

"Uchiha Sasuke. Your baby brother. The guy who came at you with intent to kill a month ago. Is working here."

Itachi's back was turned to him, gazing out towards the window that lay at the side of the beds, his pale, painted fingers, and nails laden across the scratchings of oak bearings.

"Yes"

"As a whore?" Kisame retorted, almost chuckling at the sheer absurdity of the notion, the thought that little Uchiha, tiny Sparky was giving men, of all personalities rich, debauched, and oh so old.

Itachi turned to him and his eyes flashing with sharingan. Ruby red, passionate beauty in glossy coats of the iris.

Itachi nodded. Although Oiran held with it, etiquette. That did not, even though it may beg to differ, and refuse such association with that of a brothel whore. Oiran's were simply whores with intelligence. Though, one could question this, as a brothel represented only companionship for one night, sexual encounters, forced encounters of each of the genitals of the sexes.

Therefore, in this sort of substance, equation, the patrons went there simply to find a body to break passionate sweats upon the skin, and nerves. They never went there searching for a personality to gaze at from glazed windows of the eyes. No, the only thing they needed, was spinning iris's and fluttering eye lids as the body was pounded for all its worth.

Was it ever worth so much to you, dearest?

Kisame grabbed the bottle of sake, not having any sort of vessel to fill with the contents, took a deep, chugging swig of the alcohol, and almost downed the entire thing. he wiped his mouth and his teeth bared, in a smile.

"How does it make you feel, Itachi?" Kisame's smirk ever widening as he glanced towards Itachi's form.

Itachi's muscle made no attempt to move whatsoever.

"Go away, Kisame" One could neither pinpoint menacing tones through the monotone of audio.

Kisame sat there, glancing at the sharingan wielder, finished the bottle of sake, and shrugged his shoulders in indifference. Leaving to his own apartment for the night.

"G'night, Itachi-sama"

Itachi clawed at the indents in the wood of the wall, and glanced outside towards the man outside who appeared to be drunk, two Oiran hanging off of his arm, one slightly more sober than the other, they bumbled in the dark, bumping into odd's and ends, and the older man bursting into laughter at how funny a pickle on the ground appeared to be.

Itachi groaned inwardly.

Humans were very easily amused when they were withered down back to the amusement of a child. They found the slightest, smallest things, appearances, people, and amusements in the very simplest of the things around them.

Itachi's forehead softly made contact with the glass of the window, as rain began to pitter, and patter against the outside of the world, from within his apartment it was wet, and dank.

Sasuke was like the drunk man, amused in the slightest of amusements. Always finding some sort of shed light on something.

Itachi sighed, and left for his bed.

Though sleep would not come to him so easily, neither would it idle him by slowly sleeping beside him, stroking the skin of his cheek, but never, ever attempting to rouse him to the induced coma of rest.

The tinkers of the cranks inside his plot writing brain were at their unrest. The plot was going to thicken; Itachi would remind Sasuke what his purpose was. Whether he liked it or not. And Itachi would remind Sasuke that his body was not something to give to other men so easily.

Even if it meant, stirring the enticements they had as children to remind him.

Itachi inwardly smirked.

Tomorrow was going to be a long, trying day if this was to work towards his favour.

Itachi's place on Fortuna, Lady Luck's wheel of fate had better remain in his favour of fortune.

Or otherwise he was going to force it.

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"ONE MORE SAKE FOR THE MAN WHO SMELLS LIKE CABBAGED LEMONS!!"

"…WHAT SHIRO SAID, BUT BACKWARDS! CAW!"

"HEY! I don't smell like cabbaged lemons…wait…what the hell are cabbaged lemons?"

"NOBODY KNOWS MISTER!"

"NOBODY KNOWS!!"

Kuro and Shiro's squalling was rhymed in with the bustle of the shop, as the customer came drawling in, and so early in the bloody morning? Sasuke's head was thrumming with strings of pain lacing up against the front of his skull.

Sasuke poured the sake, and placed it on the metal, rounded tray as he delicately tried to avoid being tripped by the many flowered cushions laden across the floor. Threads of kimono delicately placed on the Oiran's knees, and white feet peeking out of the folds of kimonos were one of the many sights to see in such early of the morning.

Today was busy. Very busy. Completely busy.

Sasuke's head thrummed again.

'SHUT UP STUPID DAMMN HEAD' Sasuke screamed to himself, only realising thinking made the pain excessively, grow in its amount of pain.

Once Sasuke made it across the room towards the patron dressed in simple black and white robes, holding a paper fan to his face he gave the group a monotone expression, and placed the sake bottle, and cup onto the low levelled tables as they chatted amongst each other. Oiran's giving a brush of wrist, as patrons whispered in their ears and the Oiran pretended as if the comment made was the most humorous, or raunchy talk she had ever witnessed by ear.

Of course that was a lie. But then again, so was everything that was laden so easily in this palace of whores, and their art.

Sasuke poured the sake, and the man beside the patron he was pouring for watched his wrist. Addicted to the hope that Sasuke would unclothe it to his naked eyes.

Sasuke's rolled his eyes, and then discreetly moved his wrist movements to uncover the slightest appearance of pale, wrist skin to the patron.

The man smiled.

And Sasuke almost vomited in his mouth. Had the reflex not been taught out of his poor instincts.

"You have beautiful wrists, my dear." The man commented as Sasuke placed the bottle on the table handing the man his cup.

"Thanks" simply put, and simply presented.

The man chuckled, as he ran a hand through his white hair as he watched Sasuke.

"Aah! Kyouryuu-san! Always a faller for the fine, boys of this district, no?" The man wearing the bluish tinted robes across Kyouryuu commented, as he leaned towards the man and stealing a drink from the tray as he saluted the drink to the other men around the table and laughed out loud motioning towards them all.

The men followed, and suddenly Sasuke was in an all too familiar situation.

Situation of the male ego.

Who can insult the other the most, until their balls tighten with fear?

What a beautiful game of pity full of fools.

Kyouryuu laughed too, and after sipping at his own glass, leaned closer to the mean making a comment and grinned.

"At least they don't go running away at the sight of me, eh Oushi-san?" Kyouryuu smirked and raised an eyebrow at Oushi. Oushi's grey eyes blinked at the man, and he just burst out laughing as slapped the table in a frenzy of amusement.

The rest of the men laughed, their greyish, brown hair slicked back, or rounded at the back in a ponytail down their backs. Sasuke stood their as if he pretended he actually cared about what they were saying.

"Now, would you, dearest grace us with your presence by accompanying us to a drink or two?"

Kyouryuu smiled up towards Sasuke and gave his hand out, signalling Sasuke to take it. Whether command, or not Sasuke needed the money. And so had to uphold his part of the job contract.

To serve the customer at all times.

Good lord, it sounded just like living in Konoha.

Sasuke sighed, and bowed. Taking the mans hand, it was warm, leathery, and slightly hairy at the back of it. But never the less it remained rich in texture, and in appearance. Nobles had beautiful hands he noted.

Much like Itachi's.

Sasuke grimaced and grasped the mans hand a little tight and Kyouryuu winced, but chuckled.

"It seems our lovely boy has quite the grip!" Oushi remarked, watching his friend wince in slight pain.

Kyouryuu was bedazzled by the boy who was graceful in all manner of the word, Sasuke placed the bottom folds of his kimono underneath his thighs, sitting on his calves, and hands placed at his lap. The bow of the Obi sash rustling a little against the brown oak of the low levelled table. Sasuke gazed about the table of men.

All these men appeared in their late 50's. Rich. As they all were. Noble. As they all were. Debauched? Who knew. That sort of stuff only came out when they were alone with the Oiran.

"So, Little one, what do we call such a beauty as yourself huh?" Kyouryuu asked his chin in his hand as he leaned against the table.

Sasuke looked at him, no expression. All expression remained bottled, somewhere. They didn't deserve any expression. And Sasuke just didn't feel like giving any. He'd just pretend like he actually cared about any conversation at the table. Any at all. Then he would collect his money, and go to sleep. (Hopefully) Sasuke half hoped all the men would die of heart attacks at the exact same time.

What an awesome coincidence that would serve to be.

One could only hope.

"Sasuke" He replied.

Kyouryuu smiled warmly towards Sasuke as Sasuke looked at him, all expression just, failing to show.

"Sasuke-kun, is that okay?"

Sasuke shrugged.

"Does it matter?"

Hush fell upon the table. Never had the men met such a…well, to put it blatantly an Oiran that held no expression whatsoever, Sasuke didn't try to flirt, or touch, he just, sat there. Like a doll forced into the strings, on the stage. Sasuke, too, appeared slightly.

Well.

Rude.

Kyouryuu's smile grew. His intrigue for the boy had already swelled up to the size of a giant round globe.

"Look men, an Oiran with cheek! Our praises have been sung! What a rare species indeed!" Oushi sung out, his arms flailing above his head as the mean around the table grinned widely, drinking their sake with grace, and eloquence.

Sasuke glared towards the man.

"How does one hope to kiss an Oiran with no cheek, Huh?"

Sasuke smirked as the table once again rang silent. Surprise hanging above the table like a man at his death in the air. Noose to the neck.

Kyouryuu laughed, and laughed. Harder than ever, the men around him followed along, they were blatantly little puppets on strings to these two men. The big cheeses were already very much an obvious appearance to Sasuke.

These two men had money.

So he would focus in on these two.

"An Oiran with the tongue of a viper, how, appropriate! It's rare to find such a person with your, grace, beauty and mastery of words, and wit." Kyouryuu straightened his back taking a dango from the plate in the middle of the table and chewing on the sugary sweets on a stick.

Sasuke watched him intently. He liked sweets. If he liked sweets, most probably he liked different experiments. Sasuke would deduce the choices of how to swoon the man as so to suck as much money from his embroidered, silk pockets, pregnant with gold, and ready to birth it to Sasuke's waiting hands.

Sasuke was a ninja. Trained in many ways of espionage and such. So he would spy on this person's person without having to do a thing, but watch what he ate, what he drank, the way he used his hands to visually emphasize his words. And the way a person walked held a lot of significance to their own self.

Sasuke inwardly smiled to himself.

This guy was going to be easy to pin.

Sasuke placed his elbows at the table, leaning on his chin which only served to surprise the men at the table even more, at the almost lack of manners in the young boy Oiran.

"I hope you don't expect anything else witty from me, then." Sasuke exclaimed, his eyes darting towards the dango, in the mans mouth. Reaching out to take it and placing the remaining sweets in his own mouth to the entire tables' immense shock at the situation, the characters, and the plot.

This was a messed up Oiran.

And they all loved it.

Kyouryuu smiled, and shook his head. The grey bangs dangling from in front of his ear. His hair loosely bound in a ponytail. A collection of red strings tying at the bottom into the shape of a flower.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Sasuke-kun" He purred against his red lips, as he brang a glass of sake to his mouth.

Before Kyouryuu could do anything with the glass.

Sasuke's fingers were on it, and when he was right close up to Kyouryuu's face, he whispered against his lips.

"Then what would you dream of?"

Sasuke looked intently in Kyouryuu's eyes and stole the sake from his drink. Downing the whole thing into his throat. The vicious liquid stinging the back of it. Sasuke brought his head down and raised an eyebrow at Kyouryuu.

Silence just began to breed in the table area.

Oushi and the other men gaped.

Their mouths wide open.

Sasuke raised himself from the cushions, and bid farewell to his patrons, followed with a wave and a seductive sway of the hips, as if to sway towards their way:

You want me? You can have me. As long as you pay, bastard.

Only ever would this be prominent in Sasuke's case.

Oushi leaned towards Kyouryuu, a hand to the side of his mouth covering the whispered words from prying ears.

"That one sure is a prize, if ever one saw it" He breathed.

Kyouryuu could only nod.

"WHO WANTS MORE DANGOOOOOOOOOOO"

Kuro and Shiro squawked onto their table with sticks of dango to flail about.

"CABBAGED LEMON MAN?"

"I DON'T SMELL LIKE CABBAGED LEMON GOD DAMMNIT!"

Kyouryuu smirked, and watched the boy go.

When he had searched for a radiant Oiran to spend the lonely nights away from his home. Away from the naggings of his family.

He had come to the right place.

Itachi's sharingan swivelled in the hollow spaces of his skull. He remained, veiled in the illusion of his genjutsu. Hidden in amongst the shadowed form of a wolf statue in the corner of the room, close to the table Sasuke and the older men were sitting at.

He had seen the trifling flirtations of Kyouryuu and Sasuke.

The man sure was digging his own grave.

Itachi's genjutsu remained, and he transported himself back to his room, as a shadow swallowing himself to the wall of the floor.

OO Alouette thinks I suck at this.

I HIT HER BAD ALOUETTE.

She seethes most impressively.


	5. Chapter 5

It's a very rainy day

It's a very rainy day! And its queen's birthday holiday so Alouette and I agreed to write another chapter.

(We finish our homework so fast and easily it isn't hard to find the time!)

So! Whilst Alouette sits beside me squealing raunchy ideas, I'll just follow the lead… GWAH

Thankyou very much for all your reviews. It is really appreciated, it makes us feel LOOOVVVEEDDDD! Mwah!

_Alouette&Belette_

**LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE****LINE**

"_**Is a man so lucky, if he finds a four leaf clover, and yet cannot count?"**_

The sun was slowly drowning itself towards the hills, and allowing dusk to pass through the sea of sky quiet supplely. The clouds move foreword in the great expanse of space, and the moon had come to play in all its basked glory.

The patrons of the Akai Kamome were beginning to file in with more fervency than ever. The night rush was what raked in most of the money, the formal invitations served as high incomers as well.

Most of the customers came when the darkness provided a sense of calm, the knowledge that in this house you were welcome to be anything, anyone, and love just about anywhere. (As long as you didn't dirty the Persian carpets)

At this time, a full moon seemed to place everyone on an edge of the knife of ecstasy. The excitement, the high blood pressure that pumped through veins of entities, living figures was an arousing sight to say the least.

Kyouryuu had stayed, dawn to dusk. Originally he had only come for a drink, and perhaps a kiss or two from many Oirans. But now had become intent on only one.

Sasuke.

Kyouryuu smiled at the small boy's strength, at his wit, his speech, and his graceful glances, and movements. Kyouryuu had an obsession with young wrists. And when Sasuke had revealed the bareness of his, it had set Kyouryuu's veins a blaze in all his fervency.

He wanted, only so bad to have the boy for a couple of nights. Maybe three. Just as long as Kyouryuu was here in the city for the two weeks. He had come at the beseech of Oushi, who wanted Kyouryuu to take a break from the estate, and the rulings of his city. Kyouryuu had reluctantly accepted it, and had travelled the roads alongside Oushi and their gilded carriage of oak, gold, and silver, pulled by black and white horses fit for an emperor.

Kyouryuu was glad he had accepted; now there was something here for him to enjoy.

"Excuse me"

The lady at the reception desk bowed politely, and smiled towards Kyouryuu.

"Yes, how may I help you sir?"

"Yes, I'd like to ask about hiring one of the Oiran's at this house. How would I go about doing it?" Kyouryuu implored, his hands twiddling with the paper fan in his grasp.

The lady, with the painted face smiled, and motioned her hand to follow her.

"This way please"

Kyouryuu followed the lady as she, with poise lead the way up a vinyl of stairs, and towards a shoji screen. This adorned a flock of gulls picking fish from the sea, and splashes of red floral blooms decorated the screens. At least, this is what it should have looked like.

It appeared as though some…thing had ripped the screen in shreds, and there was an attempt at tape bounding the entire thing together.

Kyouryuu blinked, and wondered whether they were putting him in jail…

The lady kneeled to the door and bowed lowly to the ground.

"Kyouken-dono, a man is here to see you"

There was a shadow of a tall man behind the door, and Kyouryuu could figure the imprinted shadows of a table, and many large statues in the room. Two other figures, what seemed to be bumbling about on the table were visible to make out.

"Then bring him in!!" A sing song voiced followed to their ears.

The lady beside him nodded, smiled and slid the screens to reveal the office of the owner.

Kyouryuu bowed politely, delicately, the strands of hair gracing his cheek, and the floor as he did this.

"Hey, hey! No formalities between patron and curator! You are the guest! So you can pass all that…polite etiquette! OKAY!"

Kyouryuu raised himself from the ground, and witnessed probably the strangest sight he had come across in this new land.

Two gulls sat on the desk, flitting about attempting to pose, their grey and black coloured wings shaking as though two drunken men enjoying each other with eager intentions.

Kyouken was standing before them, on the chair with a giant canvas before him. placing his fingers in a square formed shape as he tried to keep focus on one of the many poses the birds were attempting to keep. He splashed his horsehair brush on the white of the canvas, and it almost seemed as though he knew what he was doing.

"Good evening, sir" Kyouryuu graced with a smile towards the painter.

"Yo! Could you shut the door, I can't paint with the noise outside" Kyouken squinted at his painting and trickled a little more paint across it.

"OH KYOUKEN CANT PAINT AT ALL!"

"NOPE! NOT AT ALL! HAHAHA!!" The gulls squealed in excitement, it appeared the energy of Kuro and Shiro never gave up the ghost at all. They had been like this from when Kyouryuu was at the house, and now, the moon high in the sky, a pregnant disc of light, they were still as high on energy as ever.

Maybe they just ate blocks of sugar.

That was it.

"Don't listen to them! Haha! They don't know the first thing about art!" Kyouken laughed and then glared towards the gulls, they just cawed at him and started to hop across the table on one foot.

Kyouken placed the brush in its wooden palette, brushed his hands off of each other, and strode towards Kyouryuu with a giant open armed embrace.

"What brings you to my office, honoured sir?" Kyouryuu was crushed with a man hug of warmth as the life from his lungs was crushed outward his mouth.

"Uh-Uh well. Its concerning one of your Oiran" He managed to choke out with no ease at all.

Kyouken grinned, whipped out a fan from his sleeve (That's one very deep sleeve, he noticed) and waved it across the air in a fashion Similair to a dancer.

"AH WHAT HAPPY DAYS INDEED! And which one, had your sights been set upon?" Kyouken queried gazing up at the man from his fan. (Rhymes, Rhymes, how I do love thee)

Kyouryuu bowed his head and then walked towards a seat in the room in front of the oaken desk, laden with files, papers, and artistic materials. The man was pretty messy it seemed. Kyouken followed the patron and took place at the throne of his desk, grinning wildly and expectantly in the service of the patron.

"Sasuke-kun"

With that, the owner's smile faded.

Kyouryuu's heart suddenly leapt to attempt to strangle the smile that had fallen.

"Um, well- er…you see…someone has already placed his name in for Sasuke's presence for the next two weeks. Incidentally, only five minutes before you came to me"

Kyouryuu shook, his fists clenched and tightened at the place of his knees. His expectant heart now leaped, like a dead fish flapping for air against concrete. Someone had already booked the boy? Someone had been before him? SOMEONE?

Kyouryuu dropped his head, his gaze darkening.

Kyouken began to rummage through the many papers on the desk, he finally grasped the one he was searching for and placed it up above his head, gazed at it, and motioned for Kuro to grab it. Kuro hopped up onto the desk from the floor Shiro had pushed him off, grabbed the paper with his beak and then presented it to Kyouryuu.

"PAPER FOR YOU, MR!"

Kyouryuu took it from the orange hazed beak, and watched as the bird flipped its feet calmly against the surface of the desk. Kyouryuu turned the small slip of paper around and on it was a cheque.

His eyes passed over the money written out to it, and the kanji written for the name of the client.

"Karasu Sainou"

Kyouryuu couldn't believe it. How the hell had he missed the opportunity, instead of calmly waiting for night to get highly acquainted with the boy, he had lost, by a mere five minutes to another man. He groaned, beat himself up inwardly and wished to god he could turn time back a little by only 6 minutes at least to beat the man to the punch.

He was going to have to get drunk really quickly now.

Just to drown out defeat from his system.

He was only here for two weeks as well! That's what he had told his family, and his advisors.

Damn it all to hell! Lady luck seemed to be begging ill-fortune to sleep with him for the trip, and the rest of what seemed to be a holiday, and yet had now turned into a nightmare of not being able to be graced with the presence of the boy outside that of the public eye of the house.

"Who is this man?" Kyouryuu queried as he leaned his head into his hand in frustration, and thoughtful demise.

Kyouken leaned back on the posts of his chair and rubbed his chin, deepest thoughts in thoughtful minds.

"Well he was-"

"He was a man hidden beneath a mask!! OOHH Oh so mysterious!" Kuro exclaimed from on the desk of the curator as he flapped a wing over his face as if to imitate the man in question.

"Yes! He was a man in a porcelain animal mask! It looked like…what did it look like, Kuro?" Shiro replied after Kuro's explanation.

Kuro flapped his wings, and landed atop the desk a centimetre away from his original positioning, as if the wood had burnt him, or deemed inappropriate for his flaccid, orange webbed feet.

"I think it was a wolf of some sort? Maybe? Im not sure…it had a long nose! That's all I remember! He also wore a black cape lined with fur trim at the top. And a hood!"

Shiro hopped up towards Kuro, in amongst the act he agreed wholeheartedly with Kuro.

"Yeah! And a hood too! He wore a hood trimmed with fur! White fur!"

The two gulls stood beside each other and grinned (at least, that's what Kyouryuu guessed as much from the gulls hops and jumps)

Kyouryuu sighed and patted the ninja gulls on the head as they hopped about the desk in a flurry of amusement at the humans' etched disappointment with the situation.

"Thankyou for your assistance"

Kyouken bashed the two gulls on the tops of their heads and scolded them as Kyouryuu turned his back to leave the office.

"WAIT! Honoured guest, there is a way you can have Sasuke with you for at least one night!"

Kyouryuu's ears twitched and he turned around gracefully, kimono cloak swivelling around the black of his silk Yukata.

"How?"

Kyouken grinned, widening in size as he slapped his hands against the desk, the gulls rubbing their heads methodically with the feathers of their solid wings.

**LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE****LINE**

The morning had been long, but Kyouken had allowed him his shift for the night time. Due to most of the Oiran had buggered off to the men's apartments to quell their thirst for, 'heightened need of flesh against heaving flesh' the baths were empty, and after much, unremitting pleading from Oumu, his assistant, he had agreed to take to the baths with him at Kyouken's request.

The baths weren't big, per say, but they weren't small. They mimicked the rocks from a natural hot spring, and the bonsai tree's which grew from the cracks also mimicked the naturalistic feel of actual nature.

It didn't make sense to Sasuke that people would want to mimic the outside world, inside. What was wrong with just going to visit, and indulge in the real thing? it sure as hell cost less, and was much more…open than this place.

Sasuke sighed as he dipped his body with ease, and grace of a swan into the steamed, herbal waters. The ripples shimmering from his small, baby like torso. Sasuke hated the fact puppy fat still clung to his body like a second mother.

Oumu burst from the waters after Sasuke had accounted inside his head, Oumu had drowned in the heat of the liquid.

Not that he tried to help him. Sasuke was just lazy at the moment in time.

Oumu grinned towards Sasuke and bobbed over towards the pale Oiran.

"Sasuke-sama! The baths are just right!" He excitedly chattered as he splashed about like a child, first encountering warm waters, and shallow depths.

Sasuke mumbled an agreement sentence, and then placed a cloth over his eyes, leaning against the rocks.

Soon, the sound of Oumu's splashing, and the steamed waves of heat washing, and calmly embracing the skin, and the inside of his weary mind took its calm, delicate hold.

And rocked Sasuke's body to sweet, dreaming sleep.

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE -- Gawd this gets aggravating

"_Sasuke-kun…Sasuke-kun…"__ Something purred against the shell of his ear…_

"_Mmmn…mm…" Sasuke mumbled as he turned his lithe body amongst the warmth of cotton sheets._

_A chuckle. A warm hand grasping sheets-_

_A warm hand grasping the sheets OFF of the poor boy's bed._

"_Baby brother, if you don't want me to take you to the park, Im quite happy for that"_

_Itachi stood above Sasuke's bed and looked at him, hands on hips and a quirky smile against those dripping cherry red lips, filled with luscious beauty, and awesome skill of the tongue._

_Sasuke's eyes darted open and he leapt for his brother's neck. Itachi stumbled backwards awkwardly, trying to keep a hold on his stance on the floor. He brought his hands around Sasuke's waist as Sasuke clung tightly to his neck._

"_Don't you dare, Nii-san!" Sasuke pouted, biting Itachi's neck out of instinct._

_Itachi winced slightly, and then smacked Sasuke's bum in retaliation._

"_Sasuke, you know you shouldn't do that. It isn't very nice" Itachi grabbed Sasuke and placed him softly down against the hard wood of the floor._

_Sasuke pouted and looked downwards._

"_You deserved it, Nii-san" He mumbled._

_Itachi looked downwards, hands on hip, as he poked Sasuke's forehead with a grin._

"_Come on, Otouto breakfasts ready." Itachi turned his back to Sasuke and then exited the room with grace, that of a perfect, polished petite peacock. _

_Sasuke liked Peacocks._

_Once Sasuke managed his way downstairs, tripping over twice, and falling three times in total, due to the attempts of getting dressed while rushing downward a staircase with not much succession at the whole thing._

_Itachi turned towards the rushed noise of Sasuke's whelps, and whimpers and just shook his head lightly, as the rice cooker beeped in signal that all had been cooked. Itachi placed the fish on two palettes, and spooned the miso soup into two small porcelain bowls._

_Itachi then took the rice from the cooker, and spooned two small portions of rice in the bowl. He placed the cutlery, and the food onto the low levelled table, and smoothed out any creases. Perfection was Itachi's strongpoint, and yet it made him frail at times as well. _

_Itachi killed in a certain way, very little blood being shed. Smoothing out creases of the dead's clothes, and lining up prisoners in their execution, or torture._

_Itachi had his ways of being exact, precise._

_Just like that, of a peacock._

_Sasuke came rushing towards the table in a frenzy, pants on his head, and his little white legs strumming behind him. He took his place at the table and glanced at the two sets of dishes._

"_Where are Ookasan, and Otousan?" Sasuke queried as he glanced upward towards Itachi who was hovering in front of him, untying their mother's apron from his body, and placing it across the bench. _

"_They left early this morning for a mission the Hokage had assigned to them both" Itachi explained, while mixing the rice with his chopsticks, and then taking a heap into his mouth._

_Sasuke watched his perfect brother, basically exist perfectly, in this seemingly perfect world of his brothers._

"_Oh" _

_The two brothers sat across each other and silently fed upon the bounty before them. Nerves on tongues quivered with taste, and hands plentifully took the cutlery in hand to mouth._

_A question popped into Sasuke's head, a hope, and an expectation of the future._

"_Do you think you and I will get to do missions together, Nii-san?!" Sasuke excitedly splattered, rice falling all over the rims of his lips, and cheek._

_Itachi, mid way through placing the delicate seeds of rice into his mouth looked at his brother, in amazement at the way his younger brother ate. He was a bloody mess. Rice on his skin, miso soup splattered across his side of the table._

_There was going to be a lot of wet paper towel that was for sure._

_Itachi ate his rice._

"_Who knows Baby brother, who knows." He simply stated._

_Sasuke wasn't at all happy with the exact reply he received from his brother, but never the less, accepted it as a rectifying answer from his brother. Even if it didn't serve as much, but more than a questionable answer than answering the question with an answer._

_Once the brothers had finished their meal, and cleaning up (Itachi having to clean his baby brother's face with more than two cloths as Sasuke squirmed, and whined in Itachi's grasp being the one which took more time than ever)_

_The park was peaceful, and slightly quiet with the bird's chirps, and the illuminating silhouettes of trees, and their humble leaves. Dandelions burst from the ground in amongst green grass, and the fresh smell of dully dew. Sasuke ran foreword at the speed and grace of a limp cat._

_Once again, Sasuke fell over more than five times getting his way towards the bench Sasuke and Itachi had claimed as their own. The bench was a seat in the shape of a giraffe's back. It had giraffe legs, and a giraffe head which gazed outward, away from the people sitting upon its back._

_As if to say, there's somewhere else, id rather be._

_Sasuke felt sorry for the giraffe. And so, he spent half the time petting its head as if it were alive._

_The two brothers made their way to it, and Itachi sat down beside his baby brother who was having trouble getting up on it. Itachi took this as an opening, and grabbed the supple body of Sasuke, and placed his two legs at the side of his hips._

_Sasuke smiled happily, and swung his legs against the bench's surface. Itachi licked Sasuke's nose playfully and the auburn haired boy giggled, and spluttered with adorable sounded antics. Sasuke wiped his nose with his chubby fists, and licked his own brother's nose in reprisal._

"_Nii-san! Don't wet my nose!! It's gross!!" The sweet ring of his voice was lullaby noted songs to Itachi's ears. _

_Itachi smirked and tapped Sasuke's waist playfully. Sasuke make a cute gurgling noise in his throat and Itachi found himself unable to hold back a chuckle towards the boys furiously alluring audio noises._

"_But your aniki likes the taste of his Otouto, Sasuke" _

_Sasuke laughed and then hugged Itachi tightly around his neck, his laughter ringing against the hollow of Itachi's pale, twitching ear._

_Itachi felt a sharp sting on the nape of his neck._

_He sighed and once again, smacked Sasuke against the cloth of his shorts against the skin of his bum, scolding the little boy once again._

"_Sasuke, you know what I told you" Itachi rebuked. _

_Sasuke's hot breath came out, softly embracing the pale skin of Itachi's nape he clawed against his back, his thighs tightly squeezing Itachi's hips between them._

"_But your Otouto likes the taste of his aniki!" Itachi couldn't help but laugh at the child's cheek._

_He was a handful all right; he was going to grow up a handful, especially in his teenage years. _

_The two sat silent against the warmth of the sun, and the open cries of children around them who had attempted to swing, but had come tumbling after their mothers in terror of the swing that had its vengeance. _

"_Nii-san?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_U-Um…wh-what I did last night, I-I, what did I do last night?" Sasuke asked, his face hidden in the depths of Itachi's shoulder, the black cloth of Itachi's wide necked t-shirt rustling in amongst Sasuke's hands._

_He expected as much. Itachi thought._

_Last night was not going to remain forgotten in any brother's heads, or memories stolen towards the abyss of haziness, and shame._

_Itachi's hand stroked the strands of hair of Sasuke's, the deep crow black hair wafted out a scent of vanilla, and strawberry._

_His mother still planted the stuff on Sasuke. Even at 7 years old. _

_Itachi took a deep full scented waft of the hair and exhaled warmth against it._

"_You masturbated, Sasuke"_

_Sasuke's lips twitched, and he raised his head to face Itachi's, his eyebrows creased in worry. It was cute to say the least, and the most. _

"_Ma-Masturba-ba-"Sasuke was stumbling across the words pronunciations._

"_Yes. Masturbating. It's what people do when to achieve pleasure by their own hand"_

_Itachi blatantly put it. What was the point of giving it a soft tone, it all meant exactly the same, so why tip toe around the reality of the situation, and question when one could easily put it across the table._

_Sasuke shifted against Itachi's groin and Itachi shuddered in poisoned ecstasy at the boy's ministrations of his legs._

"_Is-Is it bad what we did?" Sasuke whispered. Everything was suddenly hushed, hushed between the two._

_Itachi's hand that was previously placed atop Sasuke's head, now took its roost at the skin of his thigh, his white khaki shorts above the skin._

_Itachi stroked the pale skin, and Sasuke watched his expression with intent._

"_It's neither bad, nor good."_

"_What do you mean? I don't understand…"_

_Itachi smiled softly, and squeezed his thigh softly, making sure Sasuke's attention remained on his brother._

"_Well, it depends__ on whom you ask. It remains neither bad, nor good. Its just one of those things that people don't understand either. What happened last night, Sasuke, is something only we need to know about, all right?" _

_Itachi tapped Sasuke's bright red nose softly, smiling._

_Sasuke's eyes were large, and his cheeks red watching his brother with much affection, and much intrigue at his answer (which still remains a question, more so than an answer to anyone)_

_The sharingan wielding heir, then placed his arms around his brother's waist, and leaned foreword._

_Sasuke felt lips touch the skin of lips. _

_Hidden by the silk cover, Itachi and Sasuke's bangs created, covering the soft, pliant kiss of brothers. Itachi's lips moved cautiously against Sasuke's, making all the right moves, and keeping the pace easy for Sasuke to follow. Itachi let his tongue peek out of the cherry red skin, and lick at the supple, baby lips. And Sasuke's eyes widened at feeling the leathery, moist skin of the strange organ._

_Unknowing what to do, what to feel, what to expect, Sasuke gasped, and Itachi's tongue filled into the mouth of the young ninja. It cradled Sasuke's teeth, and the muscles inside the warmth of the cavern that was the small child's mouth. Licking every crevasse of the mouth, and tasting the tongue of Sasuke's Itachi pushed deeper inside. _

_Their bodies moulded harsher, more demandingly, as if the attempt at getting as close as they could, their bodies would simply merge into themselves. Sasuke's legs twitched, and tightened around Itachi's hips._

_This sent a jolt of ecstatic electricity of hormones, and pleasure raking itself down Itachi's spine, blood rushing to his genitals, as his member hardened with the pure rush of it all._

_Sasuke felt a warm feeling in his gut, and he rubbed his tummy with his left hand, he then rubbed his hand up his shirt, and with no feeling but instinct, and emotional need, the boy travelled further up his baby stomach, slightly plump with puppy fat. There he found a pink, pliant, and supple nipple which he tested, and rolled a finger against the nub, and it grew hard. _

_He moaned into Itachi's kiss as he felt a rushing warmth between his legs, Itachi's vivacious member nudging Sasuke's backside as the two shared the searing kiss. _

_The older Uchiha graciously gave Sasuke breath as he let go, a string of saliva running connecting their mouths, it broke, and softly greeted the skin of the 7 year old's chin. Running down, flashing reflection and all. _

_Itachi watched his little brother rubbing the nipple between his fingers. He had to give the boy credit, he was not experienced in such, sexual __endeavour, the raw feeling Sasuke was feeling was driving his hands to feel whatever was most sensitive._

_This was Sasuke testing, exploring his own bodies' capabilities. And it gave Itachi something to grace his respectful eyes against. _

_Sasuke looked at Itachi as he fingered at the pink nub on his chest, his breaths coming short, soft, and hot. His charcoal eyes, half lidded in complete seduction of the heart before him._

"_Ni-Nii-san!" Sasuke whimpered as his fingers squeezed, and poked at the pink bud._

_Itachi watched with a blinding white, hot pleasure coursing the track of his adult body. _

_Sasuke squealed with__ delight, closed his eyes as his hand then rubbed, stroked, and his pink, sinuous nipple hardened even more, as his fingers pulled, and stroked it. His other hand coming to stroke his child like, stomach. Plump, in appearance, child like soft, and endearing._

_When he realized where they wer__e. Itachi's brain finally calculated everything logically._

_Itachi grabbed Sasuke's hands and pulled them away from his chest, putting halt to all of Sasuke's ventures. This was a dangerous situation they were in, Itachi knew if they were to be found out then they both would suffer dearly._

_Itachi understood society, and the control of it all._

_Itachi would make sure both Sasuke and him suffered nothing because of it._

"_Baby brother, we have to stop now. We're in a public place. We can play the game when we get home, all right?"_

_Sasuke wasn't satiated, his thirst still strummed with yearning and only his brother could feed him. _

_But he nodded._

_He could be patient._

**LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE**

….

Alouette wrote the near smut. I didn't.

All right. So I wrote a little bit of it.

GWAH!!

It's interesting that the flashbacks have more smut than the actual time of this story. And the fact their in an Oiran house? Wow. That Oiran house lacks LEMONY GOODNESS GRAH!


	6. Chapter 6

Because Belette and I would rather write, than watch a documentary on American baby pageants

Because Belette and I would rather write, than watch a documentary on American baby pageants!!

We both thankyou all for those who have reviewed, favourited, or placed an alert for our story. Or simply just read it! It really makes our egos BOOM up in size! Mwah!

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It had been a long day for the Hokage, her eyes were almost blood red, shot with skewered lines of veins in the lenses, the muscles in her neck ached, groaned, and begged for some sort of insignificant pleasure to the weeping muscles. She had spent most of the day attempting to catalogue missions in their rightful place, and further more, handing out the orders for the ANBU black ops. The citizens with animal porcelain, and hidden shadows covered in pliant armour.

Tsunade rubbed her tired eyes for some sort of relief, the betrayal of Uchiha Sasuke was also taking up much of her time, the boy had left with word to only Naruto and Sakura, most probably based on the fact the two had known Sasuke better than any other villager. Or, any other villager gave no heed to Uchiha's well being. (Knowing the history of their almost betrayal) Perhaps, in a way, his leaving was best for all who weren't involved with him personally.

Tsunade's torso flopped onto the desk and she groaned.

"UGH! I swear, if I have to read one more character on these bloody pieces of paper, I'LL STAB SOMETHING!!"

The night was waning in a fast motioned pace, a salad of stars scattered in a sort of dressing across the sky, and Tsunade couldn't believe the day had crept towards the night so quickly.

'When one is having fun, time flys by!' Tsunade laughed. She wasn't having fun, but she had nowhere else to look except below her at the countless scattered work demands around her, fuzzy kanji, and twirling textures of paper.

"OLD LADY!" A voice shrieked to the tunnel of her ear.

Tsunade groaned and reached for the sake bottle.

"Oh god…"

The bright flash of clothing jumped in front of her, door bashed in, and the once neat pile of paper flying haphazardly around the air of the room. Tsunade twitched in anger, she had spent the past day putting them in alphabetical order, and now some two bit minded runt had to ruin the bleeding pile of neatness she had managed.

By herself. With no prompt from anyone (Well, except that of Shizune, and a random passer by…but that held no importance whatsoever!) the room shook with vehemence, as her hands clawed the desk. Her body violently shook with the fissure of a giant, white rhino who had just suffered at the point of a finger committing the all sinful, '1000 years of pain'. Her head jutted from its lowered position and she glared with most wicked, vicious, violent glance one could ever behold in one lifetime of their own.

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!! BARGING IN HER UNINVITED HUH??"

Upon inspection, the burning orange, the greedy mouth and the stance of a hedgehog (Whether one must guess that a hedgehog's stance is, somewhat, unscrupulous at times. How could one ever know? With all those needles…)

Uzumaki Naruto.

"OLD WOMAN!! Don't scream at me!!" He screeched.

Tsunade threw a fist at him and shook the fleshy, bulging hand at the boy with vicious vigorous shakes.

"Don't presume to tell me what to do, Boy! Ill happily have your legs and hands lopped right off!"

"YEAH?! Well, I'd like to see you try, obaa-san!!"

"Don't obaa-san me!! Do I look old?!"

"YES"

"Why you little-Do you know how long it took me to sort those papers out? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA??"

'Probably as long as you are old"

"…Im going to kill you…"

"Be careful, grandma! Don't bend those arthritic legs there!"

"…YOU ARE ASKING FOR IT NARUTO!"

"All right you two, now just calm down"

A burst of grey smoke churned around a figure, and there before the latent eyes of the fifth Hokage, and the Kyuubi boy stood the impeccably timed Sensei, Hatake Kakashi. His grey, lopsided hair was never without its vibrancy, and thick, fullness. His hand grasping the very bright coloured Make-out paradise, a book of extreme ratings, and even more extreme explicit endeavours of all kinds.

Kakashi held onto the scruff of the young bright haired boy, Naruto whilst he hung there swinging his legs back and forth in attempts to get at the Hokage.

"Kakashi-sensei! She asked to fight me!!" Naruto shook in his grip.

Kakshi sighed, flipped a page of the all important chapter book, and then dropped Naruto onto the levelled surface of the office.

Tsunade stood up and crossed her arms over her chest in defence.

"I wasn't doing anything of the sort!" Tsunade huffed with a shake of her head.

Kakashi slinked across the room towards a bench near the window and sat down. He looked outside towards the village of Konoha, the moon full with zeal, and the stars seemingly falling into a steam of blue by their selves. It was a calm, and distained night filled with the echo of owl's whoot, and the occasional warm blow of low wind. The warm night breeze hit Kakashi's cheek and he breathed slowly.

Naruto straightened his jacket and the walked towards the Hokage.

"What are you doing here, Naruto?" The snail master said in an obviously exhausted manner. Her busy hands making busy work of the dishevelled room's paper work. She didn't look at Naruto, too exhausted to have to put up with knuckle-headed ninjas such as the subject in question.

"I want to find Sasuke"

Simple, straightforward, and oh so Naruto flavoured.

Tsunade brushed back the strand of hair from her forehead, and placed the stack of papers on the desk, softly hitting them upon the surface to level them in equal length. She took a glance at Naruto, and then placed a hand to her hip.

"You know what I said before, Naruto." She replied.

Naruto's fists tightened at his side and gave her a dirty look.

"I know what you said, but I can't just forget that he existed Old woman!"

Kakashi flipped a page

"We aren't asking you to forget about him, Naruto. All we ask is patience. This was, after all his decision to leave, and go ahead towards Orochimaru." Kakashi spoke, in a matter of fact admittance of betrayal by the Uchiha.

No matter what logic, what, skewed thoughts, and reasoning the Hokage, and the mimic ninja attempted to place in front of his eyes like a silken scarf, to blind him in a sense from attempting to follow his beloved friend. Naruto would see through his own tinted glasses. His own philosophy on Sasuke was that Sasuke was making a dire mistake, one that would cost him dearly.

Orochimaru didn't want to train Sasuke, it wasn't for Sasuke. He knew it, somehow, he knew it. Naruto knew Sasuke was not a daft or overly thick skulled boy. Sasuke was a mastermind, and surely by now Sasuke knew, perhaps even in the beginning Sasuke knew he was selling himself to the devil when he agreed to Orochimaru's beseech.

Orochimaru was training Sasuke to become a vessel, a vessel for his own rotting starred soul, he wasn't doing this on Sasuke's behalf, or because of what Sasuke wanted most in life.

If Naruto could get his hands, on the bastard brother of Sasuke's. He would surely break the neck in between flesh.

Tsunade rested her tired body onto the plush red chair of the Hokage, toying with the hat that lay limply on the top of the wooden framed throne of the overseer of the town.

"Even if I allowed you to Naruto, we haven't a clue where Orochimaru is hiding"

Tsunade explained, with less zeal than originally intended.

Kakashi nodded and got up to advance on The Kyuubi boy, and the medic nin.

"She's right, Naruto. We can't just throw a whole bunch of ninja towards a place where the location is unknown. Even to the Hokage" He explained, flipping a page and then watching the splayed words, upon words of romantic splurge. "We would be throwing them to the dogs"

Naruto grumbled beneath his breath, the elder ninja's were right. Even if they were utterly, exhaustingly annoying in their prime reasoning, and unrivalled intellectual competence.

"But, upon saying that. I received interesting news today." Tsunade's smile grew, and she placed her head in her forehands and grinned, wildly towards Naruto and Kakashi.

"What kind of news?" Naruto queried. Ears perked, and tail wagging at the ready.

Tsunade leaned foreword with utter glee, and secrecy, as if whispering a dirty little secret to a dirty little boy with his dirty little, prickly ears. The subject in question has been blindfolded from them for more than a while. Her painted green nail polish shone brightly atop her nails attached to almost perfect lengthened finger flesh.

"Sasuke isn't with Orochimaru anymore"

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Sasuke's dreams suddenly dropped itself, and his mind was awoken fresh, by the sound of a small, crystal bell at the entrance of the hot springs. The jingle that followed its strings of echoes through the steaming, hot springs.

With the reflex of an alley cat, Sasuke's hand (Out of instinct, out of extreme, unpliant habit and precautious strung prudence) reached for the kunai that lay hidden in the wooden bucket wherein held his bathing cloth, and bar of soap inside its little wooden hollow shape.

His muscles flushed blood immediately towards adrenalin, throwing the kunai towards the sound which failed to compliment the boy at the fact of it being a warning of entrance, not a warning of attack. Yet, one could question dully, whether either warning was any different from the other.

The kunai cut through the air, like a man through the penetration of a virgin hollow space of a wo/man/girl/boy. It hit the oak border of the door above the bell with a hollow thunk, the audio waves signalling Sasuke's aim towards it. (Traitorous audio visualisation of the bell) Sasuke turned quickly towards the door with eyes piercing flowing air directed towards the door.

Kyouryuu stood there slightly shaken by the almost fatal, and yet missed attempt at his presence. He blinked. Once, twice. Then looked towards Sasuke. The small, effeminate whore standing above the waters reflected blanket serving as a cover for Lithe, pale bodies such as the young boy Oiran.

"Ninja training, I see"

Sasuke's body stood very much above that covering.

Kyouryuu's eyes could not help, but bountifully feats upon the delicacies presented to him. Sasuke's skin was pale, soft to the sight, and most probably soft to the touch of slight fingertips with fingerprints to stain with invisible markers.

His shoulders were slight, small, and hung with grace. His neck was long, elegant, and pretty. And yet, still childlike in its very tantalizing appearance. His nipples were rose bud pink. And they appeared soft, baby like. His hips were slender, narrow, and his tummy like a child's. The puppy fat still lovingly embracing the organs of his stomach outside of his inside.

Kyouryuu could only chuckle when his eyes, served the brain receptors with a feast of Sasuke's genitalia area. It was small, and cute, and slight, like a babe worm cut in half with a scalpel in expert mind and hands.

Sasuke looked at him, his black pebbled irises prised from the utter blanc hollows of eyes gazing midriff of the older man.

It was just the man from before.

Kyouryuu smiled towards the boy as the ebony haired courtesan stood there, watching him. Kyouryuu bowed his head slightly as if giving an affirming 'Im just here, just like you for the same reason' Though, Kyouryuu was absolute, in his assurance, and own founded knowledge that the boy wasn't aware of the shake of hands, and minds alike between humble Kyouken and ever humbler Kyouryuu.

Kyouryuu proceeded to place his oak bath bucket with the fragrance of soap wafting, clinging to the sturdy sides, as a bar of the rose incarnation of a soap bar lay in the hollow space. A soft towel folded neatly around his arm. He removed the obi sash around his black and white chequered kimono upon the metal hook of the wall beside the sake barrel, hinged with black, wrought iron, and half empty. (Obviously drunk minds alike came here not only to become hazy in the heat of sober intoxicated white painted steam strands of the bath house)

The kimono slid calmly off the mans broad shoulders, Sasuke twitched his eyes towards the man whom was removing the supple cloth surrounding aristocrat skin. Sasuke noted that his body was slim, fit, and well built. In fact, it was almost as similar to that of a 19 year primed male.

Almost as close to resemblance in appearance as his own brothers.

The bastard, the weasel materialization was beautiful in appearance. Though, as time would further rot away the present, into the fungal growth of the past, Sasuke would come to learn appearances are more to be regarded with suspicion than a man with a knife to your throat, promising not to cut, but only kiss your neck, followed by rough sex with a knife.

Sasuke looked around for Oumu, but the small babe was nowhere to be seen. Not hiding behind a rock, nor flashing a mirror with nudity with graceless fervour of a field mouse.

"If your looking for your servant, he left at Kyouken's beseech to finish up some of his chores" Kyouryuu responded, easily understanding the ever twisting eyes of Sasuke's subtle search for the servant boy.

Sasuke watched the older noble as he, with the utter grace of a swan, dipped his body into the swallowing heat of the springs. He moved smoothly across the moving ripples of heated liquid underneath a small trickling waterfall smoothly, with elegance, and ease washing itself against the medium sized boulders.

Sasuke's blank stare continued as the man began to wash his shoulders with his cloth, carefully passing over the crevasses of his muscles, and noble bones. It was then, where his body was relaxed, nude, and out for the rocks, the water, and the fake vegetation growing atop grey rocks that Sasuke's ever searching eyes noticed the harsh and deep scar tissue covering his sturdy chest, and brazen skin.

Sasuke's eyes widened

Had he been a warrior? A ninja, perhaps? In all honesty Sasuke mused that he must have just got into a crash landing with a carriage of horses from a livid citizen.

Kyouryuu noticed Sasuke looking at the scars that painted the skin on his bones, and pulsating muscles. And found this as an opening, if ever one could find such a way to start the relations.

"I was a ninja, once. Hard to believe, I know" Kyouryuu laughed as he relaxed into the sharp, softness of the stone formation, in which they acted as a wall behind him.

Sasuke looked at him, with suspicion grazing his heart, and the tendrils surrounding it. This man, this, aristocrat had been a ninja? When? In his own land? Or perhaps, he was senile. The man certainly had the build of body for that of a ninja, but in no way did his disposition appear remotely like a ninja. He was too laid back; open to everyone's attacks, if anyone was to try into an opening of his to slit the strong vein in his neck.

"What made you quit?" Sasuke asked an attempt to make peace, make acquaintances'? No. more just as an attempt to get the senile fool to give him more evidence that he was a ninja. In Sasuke's current disbelief he was hardly in favour of the man's truth.

Kyouryuu sighed, and rubbed his shoulder with the cotton of the white cloth.

"I dunno, Guess I found a wife, had a child. And decided to focus more on the political schemes of my village, rather than the armed forces."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed at the man. He was married, that should have been obvious, most of the men whom came to the house of the flowered, fragrant grace of the Oiran were already accounted for by sad, lonely, ignorant wifey back home in their grand palaces, and lavish districts. Their wives, no doubt would be beautiful, grand, and yet they were of no competition to any of the grand Oiran of this most, wonder of an establishment situated in a private sector of the world.

Their children of course, had lack of sexual moral at this age. And that's most probably the reason why fathers, not mothers felt guilt about their sexual comings and goings.

No questions were asked in this world. Apart from the succulently whimpered and growled ones of the men barking out their orders to the courtesans of the famed house to suck harder, whine louder, or grind with no mercy.

It was why this place, why this little street house was beloved by most people. Especially, most dearly adored by men. Because of the behaviour, and the lack of strings attached to the acts of 'indecency' to a moralistic world that the Oiran world gave out in abundance, with pregnant hands to wanton men ready to birth the pleasure they sold in heaps. Because of this, lack of moralistic inhibitions, as society reigned as being decent for this humanity, men liked it. Men adored it, men loved it. Some women, as well. The very, source of ferocious instinct, and attraction, the sort of animalistic tendencies, and fantastical castles in the sky that were allowed to reign over, human common sense of civility.

Men could be men. Women could be women. No red string to pinkie and no heart shattered pieces laden on the ground. It was simple. And it was the way people fantasised it to be, even if for the slightest of moments.

Sasuke nodded courteously and proceeded to leave the pools.

Until a hand grasped his wrist, with tightness that still remained soft to touch.

Sasuke looked down at the man and glared.

"Let me go" Venom spat from Sasuke's tongue. Warnings, after warnings laden in such a command.

Kyouryuu looked at him, intently. Lack of emotion scared Sasuke at times. He didn't like it. Couldn't tell what a person was thinking. Sasuke could happily dish the banquet of his monotone faced emotion. But he would refuse, could not, take other peoples sense of monochromatic emotion.

What happened next, would have earned the elder male a stab to the groin, with the sharp point of his kunai. If he had it in hand at the time. Or at reach of his arm.

Warm, leathered lips moulded against his, like clay of an artists impression. They moved subtly against Sasuke's cherry dripping lips. His eyes widened in protest, in shock. This was a whore house, why had he been so shocked?

Everyone here wasn't as blatant quite so fast as this man was. He had never had a chance to prepare for blatantly put actions, or sentences of 'I'd like to ravish you, boy'

Kyouryuu held Sasuke tightly and then pushed the young boy's body into his own. The feeling of boy skin against man skin was ravishingly delicious. And it served Kyouryuu's being with a dish of sweet meats.

Sasuke attempted to budge from the man, but the utter shock of the kiss kept him anchored in the position forced upon him. Kyouryuu tightened his embrace, and then the mans lips peeked from his mouth, and licked at Sasuke's bottom one, enticing the entrance of Sasuke's mouth. The cavern, the moistness of it, the utter sweet, sinful wet delicacy of it. Sasuke's reflexes had been operated, input into him like a computer to a programme that it cannot deny with decline of entrance to its hard drive.

Kyouryuu moaned into the kiss and then plunged into the depths of the young ninja's mouth. His tongue ventured foreword, wounding itself around the hot, luscious muscle of Sasuke's own mouth. Toying with it, tugging it, and commanding it with voyeurism intent.

Kyouryuu brought his hands down Sasuke's chest, and toward his stomach, gently twirling a fingertip around the supple belly of the boy. Dipping into the cavity of his belly button, and prodding at it. Then continuing a trail around the child's stomach, soft, sinewy, and tense in its own beguiling way. The muscles between Kyouryuu's fingertips twitched, and revelled unwillingly against the pads of the noble digits. The elder man chuckled against Sasuke's lips and Sasuke glared, Kyouryuu's palm then faced flat against the child's tummy and rubbed, and pushed up against the silk softness of such body flesh. His other hand held his shoulders tightly, his fingers strumming against the heated skin of the boy.

The hand, which had previously been occupied with the stomach skin, had now ventured behind Sasuke, winding itself around him, and began to fondle with the boy's cheeks of his bottom.

Sasuke winced as the hands almost, painfully groped the sober flesh of his bottom. Kyouryuu relished in the skin of Sasuke's behind, casually slapping the skin with a palm of his own hand, and then spreading the two cheeks away from each other, to reveal the lobster pink tight flower bud between the cheeks careful protection, and cover.

His fingers would continue the harsh spreading of Sasuke's pale skinned cheeks of his buttocks. At times he would spread them softly, almost, lovingly, the tight entrance of Sasuke's anus being shown only in slight revealment. Then other times, the bud of his anal entrance was revealed with ferocious force, open to the soft caressing of the warmth of the water it was drowning in softly, and beautifully lapping at the new space Sasuke's anus presented, the water would lap amorously against the small, pink opening.

Sasuke's entrance then began to twitch with expectancy of being filled, penetrated with fervent lust. It trembled at the contact of water, and at the fact of being revealed openly. The tight bud shuddered with total wanton need for a male genital to penetrate the hole with violent erotica, or affectionate pornography. Sasuke whined at the thought of appeasing the twitching hole.

Sasuke's breaths came out in rasps, and Sasuke tried to contain the forced pleasure the man was openly giving him. When he felt both hands keeping his butt cheeks spread, with a sense of wanton relations and intimacy, Sasuke's eyes sprang open and he separated himself from the man.

He roughly pushed the man away with his hands, shoving at his shoulders.

"You shouldn't have done that" Sasuke wiped the trail of mixed saliva from his chin, and cheek. Where the rough separation had caused it to splatter. It was cum in its very own manner, and way.

Kyouryuu smiled at the boy, chuckled and stroked the luscious spikes of the back of his hair.

"And why not?"

"Why not?" Sasuke looked at him as if talking to a dim-wit unknowing to obvious rules of the house.

"WHY NOT?! Im an Oiran, not your play toy at your bodies' whim. Everything costs something around here." Retaliated the younger ninja.

Kyouryuu watched with humour at the boy, and smirked towards his eyes.

He then moved towards Sasuke, the younger boy trying to inch his poor, savaged body backwards from the man, but kept in the nobles kempt grip was not making such attempts at escape easy for him.

Sasuke could only grimace in disgust as Kyouryuu's lips, and teeth grazed ever so softly, like wind to the broken skin of the soldier.

"I already paid for you"

The words held Sasuke's sour wit back, and kept his own body now anchored to the man's surface. Sasuke could do nothing, now. He was tied down by stinging spider webs by this mans money, and by his hand.

Well.

At least he got paid.

Sasuke guessed that was all that mattered in its own insidious way.

Sasuke nodded, glared at the man where he received a chuckle from Kyouryuu which egged Sasuke to desire some sort of giant, object crushing the man to death.

Half the time, Sasuke spent committing acts of sexuality on others; he usually fantasised not about flesh, or coursing electricity of the pleasure receptors.

But painful, giant rocks falling on people.

There was only one sexual aspect of the fantasy that a person could ever derive from such sadism.

The fact it was rock hard.

God. He was immature at the best of times.

Sasuke stood in front of the man, revealing all his flesh to him, Kyouryuu, the voyeur of young boy's genitalia.

Oh how the title tingled with titillation.

"What do you want me to do?"

Jeez.

Not much of a brain teaser question, was it?

Sasuke's brain was feeling numb, most probably from the squirming heated steam fogging his eyesight, and brainsight.

Kyouryuu smiled and then twirled his finger in a motion of 'turn around'

Sasuke nodded, glared, and then turned around and bended over, grasping the white, pure tiles of the bath container.

This was going to be a long, painful night for the young one.

It was his shift, for Christ sakes.

'Life Hates Sasuke' and that was what Sasuke had come up with for the quote of the day.

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I swear Belette loves describing holes. SHE DOES! IT'S CREEPY! She begged me for her to be allowed write the whole 'spreading cheek' stuff. I haven't a clue why, but she's addicted to describing holes and all things holey. Ahaha! WORD PLAY!

Itachi disappeared in this chapter.

He's being little, conniving Itachi-weaselling!!


	7. Chapter 7

Naruto looked at Tsunade, with a blank stare

Alouette is off drawing…we are still trying to get our Kodansha manga entry done…jeez louise…We fail at staying with one story. And then school gets in the way.

RAWR

Anywho. While she does this I'll write this chapter! WHOOT!

_**ALOUETTE&BELETTE**_

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Naruto looked at Tsunade, with a blank stare. Tsunade, the great mistress of Konoha could only stare back. Her green eyes, almost, diluted like, thanks to the very fact that she had worked throughout the entire day, and as the sun began to climb from a departed heaven. A restful, wakeful sleep induced scenery unravelled from within the womb of itself.

"S-Sasuke- isn't-"Naruto's tongue tied, and banished itself to a length of a solitude pause.

Tsunade took the cup from her desk, and downed the entire thing, following with a swig of the entire porcelain jug, the droplets falling from her painted lips, towards the pale crevasse embedded in the muscle and bone of her sternum.

"Yeah, well. It came as a surprise to me as well" She stated, with almost an annoyed, painted look on her lips, and eyes.

Kakashi could only share a glance with the Hokage, no. this wasn't all that surprising in its own, subtle line of attack. Orochimaru would have held Sasuke back, definitely, if only so the child's manner of mind didn't follow the reasoning that as soon as his body chakra outgrew Orochimaru's chakra state, then Sasuke's adolescent, twisted little childish mind would follow to, and unto Orochimaru with the stated fact that Sasuke was leaving him, or, following through with a plan of stripping the skin from his rapacious, snake like veins, and then tearing them asunder, and naked. Ripping the strings from their connections.

No. Orochimaru had already thought out his plan of attack in amongst the many years watching the Uchiha heir.

This wasn't all too surprising for Kakashi.

But Sasuke's guts had not been dissipated by Orochimaru's clingy fingers, and palms.

"Why does it not surprise you, Hokage?" Kakashi asked, as he pushed himself from the frame of the window, and stared down towards the 'masked aged face' of the Hokage.

Tsunade glared at him, and then flicked a ponytail from her shoulder turning away from the Mimic Nin.

"I just thought Sasuke wouldn't leave as soon as he did, I thought Orochimaru was smarter than that, of letting Sasuke the freedom he obviously gave him"

Naruto looked between the two Ninjas, and then jumped foreword between their bodies bustling inside his stomach, churning in the very depths of the trickster soul.

"Then we can go get him, right?!"

Tsunade opened one eye to look at Naruto and laughed. Naruto glared at the deep, female rumble of glee, the pure, adulterated snigger from the slug mistress's perfectly formed mouth.

"Why are you laughing?" The Kyuubi boy clenched his fists as the welts of anger titillated his small, beating heart. Covering it, as a blanket to that of a dense child.

"Because. Naturally, when a human finds something funny, they laugh."

Tsunade then leaned foreword against her desk, the papers crunching under the brute force of her burly skin, and the clenching, blood ridden muscles of her physique. She smiled the painted red, the dark of her mascara, and the pale of her exterior flesh all ran deep within the mask of diluted age.

"Naruto. Where Sasuke is, where he remains, at this very point in time is beyond our influence. We have no power over anyone within that reach of that town. That town is without ninja authority in any way, or form."

The seriousness of Tsunade's voice slowly bleeds from her eyes, dripping liquorice black towards the pores of Naruto's skin. And stabbing the very vine within his heart.

Naruto stood cold, as if hanging limply under a rainy tree with a rope at his neck. He felt, that he had no govern at all, in this situation. And in this stem of talk, this tightrope of scenery.

He felt crestfallen, his heart drooping like an old man pot plant. His blossoms, far too gone to ever be re-found by the bees to pollinate. He glanced his way to the floor, and looked defeated; Kakashi looked over at the boy, and felt a sting of empathy. The boy was not one to give up, and although externally it seemed as if Naruto had fallen into the state of open-handed appreciation of the situation he was now funded with by the Hokage. Inside, there was some trickster plan boiling within the rims of his intelligent mind.

Naruto felt a warm palm on his shoulder, and felt the harsh heavy weight that was Kakashi's wore torn palm.

"Kakashi? Is there really, no way? No way at all?" Naruto desperately pleaded between icy lips of his own.

The copy ninja then smiled, and some sort of ray of hope begged to touch the skin of the Kyuubi boy.

"Where there's a will, there's a way, right Naruto?"

Naruto looked towards his sensei with a shocked look, the mimic ninja had finally revealed to him a treasure chest of some sort of, dilute hope that there was a way of getting to the town, and bringing Sasuke back. Naruto's grin grew in size, his aura pulsating giant blotches of yellow colour, as it rose in expression.

"YEAH! HELL YEAH! YOU BET THERE IS! SASUKE! HERE WE COME TO SAVE YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS!!"

The vivacious fox boy pranced about in la-la land of Naruto, as Kakashi sighed, and simply watched the boy, knowing this was going to be one hell of a harsh transition for the two. He questioned whether telling Sakura would be of any worth to the situation. Knowing Sakura she would squirm in heightened ecstasy, and then be ready to cut mountains down from their roost.

Oh, the girl would do anything for Sasuke.

Which was why there was the question of whether allowing her to know, served any higher purpose for the situation whatsoever.

Tsunade sighed, and her head collapsed somewhat, harshly upon the oak of the desk as she mumbled.

"Great. That's right. No one listen to me. Im just a transparent entity. What the hell…"

Naruto patted the poor, defeated Hokage upon the head and then mumbled towards the Sanin, with hand at the side of his own lips, as if whispering dirty vocabulary to a teacher.

"So, where is Sasuke exactly?"

Tsunade mumbled into the cloths of her sleeve, rubbing her weeping, tired eyes into the cotton.

Naruto's ears pricked up and twitched with wanton expectancy of something a little more audible.

"What? I didn't hear that?" The boy piqued out.

Tsunade then lifted her lips from her cotton, green sleeve and her lips formed the letters, the words. And the oh so dearly beloved answer for the question of the boy.

"An Oiran house"

Naruto's eyes expanded with ungraceful precision at the answer of his own question.

"…what's that?"

The whole room then fell deathly silent.

**LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE**

His arms were beginning to burn under the harsh, embrace of the tight ropes to his wrists, bound behind his back, his elbows, and the joints of his wrists, and arms were twisted in unnatural ways, the sprains were beginning the thump with harshness of a beating from nail and wood, and blood was flowing freely through the broken strands coming undone fro the tight, hazy brown object.

His body too, was twisted. But this position was probably more appropriate for the body. Perhaps. Maybe not. It all depended on what the body was made for the possibilities of different positioning. If it was possible, then it must have reason behind it being possible.

If it was possible, why deny doing it?

Well. For one.

It hurt like a bitch after the first two hours.

Sasuke's face was pushed against the tiles that lined that of the springs. With the fake shrubbery glancing downward into the heat, and steam of the small water currents. And the hushing of the water falls. It was quiet, quaint, and silence paid virtue to such places.

But whether the position he was in was virtue or vice, the ninja had no choice.

If it felt good for the patron, then be humble towards the act. And attend to the need of the patron.

Sasuke inwardly growled to himself.

'Stupid, fucking rules…'

You want to know? The positioning? Oh humble sir, I will gladly greet you with such description!

Sasuke's back was curved gracefully, almost, mechanically, like a doll, and yet the beautiful dip in the middle of his back was so, delicate in appearance, and yet strong in the ability to sustain itself like that, it resembled the crane of the neck of a peacock.

The pale colour, shimmered, resinated against the sweat trickling down from open, bleeding, forced pores.

His childish rump was pushed high into the air, still, and perfect. Round, two perfectly formed globes of skin lay in the air, like beautiful ceramic antiques that one would set about to caress, or obtain. His hands, sewn into ropes, seemingly like, pushed harshly against his back so it limited his very movement, and so he depending upon the movement of his legs to keep him well obtained in balance, as so not to fall down upon the floor in defeat, and weakness. A shine reflected against the pale complexion of the ninja's backside. It shivered slightly, and tensed in the air. The currents of steam gracefully accepting the interruption of their flow but such a beautifully, defined child's bottom.

The steam and the heat followed through with coming towards the bottom, and then caressing it in their own, childish way. Anything of solid appearance, and feeling was accepted by the physics of steam, heat, oxygen, and air. The whitish flow of air curled around the soft flesh of Sasuke's bum, and twirled around it, almost, loving it, and causing the outbreak of sweat from open pores to run down the ceramic skin.

Glistening in all glory of its own, the beads of water ran dutifully down the softness of the plump skin, and followed the curves, and then the chasm of the connection of the inner thigh. They dripped down that connection, and reached the concoction of the dripping white cum atop the white tiles of the springs, in a way, diluting the white fluid, and making haphazard spirals, and insanity of swivels of liquid. A drop of semen fell from Sasuke's stomach as his penis once again, failed to reach the blind white flash of orgasmic release.

Sasuke winced in utter annoyance of the fact that he had been not denied once, or twice. But three times now, he had been denied of reaching to the climactic peak of sexual stature. His cock was pulsing harshly, in an effervescent way, it too, annoyed, and wondering why it was so full to bursting from its own, orgasmic flash of pleasure. And yet, the pleasure too, was denied of Sasuke. The tight, harsh ribbon around the base of his penis was the culprit, the dastardly form of denial on his aching penis.

Spurts of cum almost, daring to escape from the cherry dripping red slit of the child's genital. Small spurted semen spotted Sasuke's plump stomach. As it twitched once more from the refusal of such sexual gratification. Sasuke pushed his face further into the tiles as the fluidal cum begged to be released from his aching, dying, almost reviled erection.

His penis twitched more forcefully as more spurts of semen continued to try and fight an escape from the tightened cock. The ribbon around the base of his boyhood quivered alongside the twitches of his impassioned flesh as (figuratively speaking) it screamed, and clawed a way to release.

A hand reached from Behind Sasuke and began to stroke the small flesh once more as Sasuke clenched his eyes together and tried to hold it together, whines, and protests of being protested. A finger then came to toy with the idea of undoing the ribbon; it stroked the silk, and gnawed at the bloody thing. But still, it refused to commit to the act of untying the appendage.

Sasuke could only groan within his throat as a single finger came to toy, and poke, play with the slit at the tip of his penis. At the tip of final destination for what should have been three orgasms, but, in the end remained as silent witnesses to the act of reaching climax. The fingernail raked against the vibrantly reddened head of the flesh. The finger then parted the slit, and covered it in its own semen, its own porcelain essence. Sasuke's cock twitched violently once again as it was infiltrated with the liquid of its own creation. A finger prodding about with undignified entry, two fingers followed the first to part the slit and cover it in the thick formation of its release. The hardened flesh then pulsated more readily again, the intruding force causing rivulets of electrified pleasure even though Sasuke's mind knew of the refusal for its body to have a climax, to indulge in after orgasmic pleasure, Sasuke's body had no idea of this attack.

Sasuke's arousal once again could only allow small spurts of seme escape from the nettle rashed slit. This time the liquid managed to escape as far to the point of the rosy red nipples of the young boy. The white cum abundantly painting the cherry red nubs as they hardened whilst the essence of boyhood ran cold in the dragging of time. The white rivulets of cum upon his now erected, plump nipples dripped longingly towards the floor the body was raised upon.

Small pools of semen sporting above the stomach of Sasuke, his chest, and around his knees. He attempted, in all his best attempts to keep himself from showing any signs of weakness, but the older man behind him knew just how to get his body to contradict the wantings of his ever rebellious mind of explicit extortions of pleasure signs of sound.

Kyouryuu smiled lovingly towards the boy, contradictive of one to speak of loving when the processor of pleasure entrancements is denying the below body any sort of pleasure extracts whatsoever. Kyouryuu remained covered in a towel, around the lines of his almost too well built to be good waist. Barely any sheen of sweat lay visible for the human eye to be aware of in any sense of the word.

Sasuke's body, on the other hand was not as to be as lucky as Kyouryuu's. It was completely bare, and underneath that of a more dominant male denying any sort of twisted pleasure he could offer in any form, or shape.

Kyouryuu stroked the tied wrists of Sasuke's arms which were bunched atop his back in an almost painful fashion. He could tell Sasuke was trying to contain any sort of pleasurable sound, or wanting signs of giving up to the man at all.

Kyouryuu sighed musically, and then proceeded to take the hand which had toyed with the slit of Sasuke's boyhood towards the plump globes of the boys buttocks. It was easy enough the part them and reveal the twitching, frothy hole. It was moist, and wet, obviously accumulating some sort of its own lubricant from the moist wetness of the water, and steam. a small stream of white fluid began to run from the puckered opening, and streamed down the very white, formation of skin between the sacks of his balls and the cream of his inside thighs only to follow the same fate as that of their predecessors of a different anatomy. Kyouryuu smiled as the expertedly painted blush of the tense hole was revealed in all absolute glory to the ex-nin.

Kyouryuu licked his lips as a small bead of sweat ran down the burning strings of flesh.

"Hnn…Cute…" Kyouryuu whispered as he glanced from above Sasuke's backside, Sasuke whimpered at the comment and grimaced his eyes in glare towards the side, in pretend, and imagination that Kyouryuu was the air, the oxygen, and the steam.

Sasuke then felt the prod from a finger against his entrance, and betraying his own soul it twitched, and shivered underneath the assault of a perfectly manicured finger prodding at the twitching subject. Kyouryuu could feel Sasuke's body shuddering underneath the playful, seducing assault of the man's finger presenting to the young body.

The boy had obviously never undergone as long fooling around, or, first stages of sexual intercourse as he had with him. Or, perhaps he was so use to the lengthened stages of initial foreplay that he simply had taught himself to pretend he felt something, by ignoring the fact he felt something.

Who knew at all? Who really, utterly knew? Kyouryuu couldn't tell whether Sasuke was new to this, or not. Simply because Sasuke's body reacted so, plentifully to touches, so easily swayed under the seduction of an older mans hands and perfect balance of sense when it came to gratification of the sex hidden beneath skin of skin. What a beautiful little boy he had managed to pay for, what a beautiful little flower boy he had finally clawed his way to from a home life, to this, secluded, unknown, world.

Kyouryuu snapped away from the train, chugging itself limply across the rain of his thoughts. Grey skies didn't agree with thinking. And such grey skies returned his brain towards the task, literally in hand.

Kyouryuu prodded harshly against the twitching, cherry dripping red anal hole of Sasuke's, and proceeded to simply poke at the flesh of his hole. It bled moisture upon his fingernails, and travelled down the joints of his oh so perfect fingers.

Kyouryuu then took the cotton around his waist, leaving it astray by Sasuke's knees. Kyouryuu gave Sasuke's moist access a slight lick, and earned a mumbled, and almost intoxicated hiss from the boy as the cute, childish hole twitched once more, almost tightening around Kyouryuu molten red organ inside his mouth. Kyouryuu began to nudge with the vibrant head of his member against the soft, heated lining of Sasuke's vividly, passionately scattered blush of the whimpering entrance.

Sasuke's fists clenched together, nails scraping welts against the weeping skin of his back, his knees buckling underneath the pressure of the orgasm climbing, building, escalating in a daunting manner, his body expecting out filled pleasure for his own. And yet his mind willingly knowing that the string binding his penis would dutifully deny it so.

Kyouryuu began to rub the head of his cock around the rim of Sasuke's anus. Watching as his precum dripped, and dribbled from the tip of his penis and dutifully slid down the vibrating shivers of Sasuke's shuddering sex. Sasuke's mind screamed for the impalement of Kyouryuu's cock, lined, clothed, and warmly nudging his colon into the gland of his prostate and rubbing gently against it, with all but calm forced thrusts, and nudges, and bashes, hits, and targets sought very well defined by yours alone. oh dearly departed, what would they do but to get the same pleasure from the very abused living.

If only for the shortest time.

And yet you shall proceed to complain.

We all weep for the future of star paired sex.

Sasuke turned his head, to and fro, the bastard of a noble was denying Sasuke, not only release from the bleeding ribbon choking the release of sexual pressure, and the built up semen within his torture, refrained boyhood. But now, he was denying the impalement of his penis inside the comfort of his quivering orphus.

Sasuke couldn't help but attempt to shift closer towards the heat of Kyouryuu's manhood. The thick, lengthened, hard physical feeling of the male genitalia.

It was all too much, when Kyouryuu noticed this, he only nudged his own a body a little back, and Sasuke's frustration at such an attempt being fortified over by another sly noble was excruciatingly, well. Fucking frustrating! To put it bluntly.

"Nghh…" Sasuke whimpered for the first time in a many length of the time he had been incarcerated inside the claws of almost white pleasured oblivion.

Kyouryuu chuckled and stroked Sasuke's raven hair in comfort, well. An attempt at comfort, Sasuke noted. It wasn't lessening any of the pain, or wanted pleasure. It just made Sasuke want to break the man's hands and impale himself on the ex-nin's engorged…thing.

Sasuke then felt the disappearance of the male's warmth, the pulsating, yet, tamed manhood against the child's doorway to the body, and the pleasure point.

Sasuke dared to look over?

Of course he bloody would.

He manoeuvred his head slightly, eyes parted, mouth wide open with strings of saliva running from his bruised, bleeding lips (From forcing pain unto himself to counteract the blinding denial of pleasure coursing so, plainly against the drums of his skin)

Sasuke's ebony eyes were black, glazed over, and beautifully dauntingly, haphazard in sight.

He watched as Kyouryuu began to run his own hand against his manhood, the look in his eyes was amazing…the pure, unadulterated sexuality, raw, and firm in all its ever purest forms. And Sasuke, to say the least. Secretly liked it. He loved the animalism of people's facial features when in the middle, in the junction of committing sexual acts, and then undoing them towards him.

Of course he had told Oumu he hated it. But. Sometimes.

Sometimes. On a very rare occasion.

If it was at all done, with as much precision, and intent as this noble had committed upon his young body, then it was more mind blowing than a bullet to the head and blood rushing to the prairie of no mans land.

Sasuke licked his lips as he watched, glassiness of the shutters of his eyes laying half over the iris in a misty stare.

Kyouryuu closed his eyes, huffed, allowed steam to exhale from his mouth as he bowed his head in distinct knowledge of pleasure, and outright sexuality.

Sasuke could only watch as Kyouryuu's penis was then positioned, a pistol to a persons head, towards Sasuke's quivered, abused, almost a shivering entity in the dark depths of boyhood, of raw, and potent sexual favourism. Kyouryuu didn't enter Sasuke as of such; he simply placed his penis in front of the quivered flesh. Kyouryuu smirked towards Sasuke as he took a long languid stroke, and he climaxed, a long splash of cum targeting The cherry red hole of Sasuke's the little doting gap in his lower body, the white burst of semen splashed into Sasuke's somewhat, gaping hole as it almost seemed to suck it all in. Sasuke then whimpered loudly, biting onto his arm and marking it with the indents of his own, porcelain white baby teeth. Sasuke could feel the warm, vicious liquid of Kyouryuu's manhood run down his legs, splashing against the crimson lining of his anal opening, some of it travelling in rivulets of thick cream inside his body, hitting the lining of his anus, and he could feel the very, violent warmth as it dispelled towards prickling cold, hardening inside his him.

Sasuke's entrance quivered, and seemed to do actions of sucking in, and then sucking out, as if attempting to absorb the discarded cream of Kyouryuu's essence.

Kyouryuu rode out the orgasm, as smaller bursts of semen escaped and hit the whining hole, small streams running down the cream of his flesh, the pale, and swan like feathered skin. Oh it was beautiful, when one compared the similarity in porcelain appearance, that of his own semen, and that of Sasuke's skin.

Kyouryuu watched as Sasuke's limbs tightened together, his thighs, and knees obviously tired, and wanting to do nothing but fall on the ground.

Kyouryuu, after cleaning himself up with his cotton towel, discarded near Sasuke's knees, tied the dirty cloth around his waist, and then stood up from behind Sasuke, appreciating from above, the state of Sasuke's rump. It was covered in his own, and Kyouryuu's discarded cum. Splatters on the round, soft globes of his bottom, and then there was the state of Sasuke's penis. It was quite a, ruthless thing of Kyouryuu to do. To tie, and contain any discarding of climactic semen from Sasuke's balls.

Kyouryuu smiled, and then sat in front of Sasuke. On the wooden bench facing the boy's front. Kyouryuu lowered his eyes and watched Sasuke's small boyhood quiver in annoyance, in delight, in expectance of some sort of release.

Kyouryuu thought himself, only, slightly sadistic.

This was his entertainment of sorts. And if he was going to have a holiday, he'd be dammned if he didn't indulge in the things he couldn't do at home, or with his wife.

Sasuke glared at the man, strings of saliva roaming his mouth like dripped cream, of a child's ice cream held in infant fingers, to an infant's mouth.

"Don't…Glare…Y-You…" Sasuke's eyes rolled back and he winced once more as his penis throbbed in expectance.

Kyouryuu smiled and chuckled softly at the boy's predicament, and annoyance. Sasuke had previously shown him his intense personality, and the anti-social bastard sort of act he had going on inside his lithe skull.

Kyouryuu watched the poor boy has desire began to drive him mad, his body raking for any sort of simple delights, sweet meats it could find from a scrape, a rub, or anything, and yet Sasuke, the boys soul would not allow it such, decadence. For he, yes, he would not allow himself any effrontery of his body to allow opening to weakness of his mind, and his will power. Sasuke's bottom was still pert, raised high into the air, it swayed almost, seductively as if to use the air for pricking his open hole. Hoping the air would act as a harsh, and modulated genital.

CAW

Kyouryuu's ears pricked slightly, a daring little vibration of sound hit him, and his ninja sense felt chakra swooning in a formulation near the window. His eyes scanned around it, the moon was almost falling into the suns form, and day had almost come to rise from its perpetual slumber of time, and space.

Kyouryuu squinted his eyes, and saw what seemed to be a black form.

A black, animal form of a crow.

Like a shadow, it just sat there. In the ink black of its feathers, the wind slightly lulling movement within its form, and shape. Its eyes twinkled with a ominous reflection.

Somehow.

This crow had chakra of humanity.

Chakra of human skin, and flesh.

Chakra of a human heart.

It then flew the roost when it felt pressing eyes upon itself.

Kyouryuu, felt…alarmed, and caution was warranting.

Kyouryuu knelt in front of Sasuke, brought his arousal to Sasuke's mouth, and nudged his cherry dripping lips with the head of his semi-hard member.

"Suck"

Sasuke groaned and rolled his eyes in complete exasperation, and displeasure. But. Opened his mouth, contrary to his own wantings.

Sasuke parted his lips, and then proceeded to take the engorged cock into his mouth with his tongue winded around the rosy tipped organ.

**LINELINELINELINELINELINELINE****LINELINELINELINELINELINELINE**

Hellooooo!

Tis Alouette here.

I was away drawing when Belette wrote this…

I just finished reading it.

WTF BELETTE?? THIS HARDLY GOT US ANYWHERE IN THE STORY! YOU FAIL!! IT WAS JUST MEANINGLESS SEX AND MAYBE SOME NARUTO DEVELOPMENT!! WHAT THE HELL??

I knew I should have written this.

Well…Hope you enjoy it!

(Good god…how meaningless this chapter was…Im going to kill Belette. And then she's going to proceed to kill me for insulting her…when she reads this.)


	8. Chapter 8

For when the crow had finally lifted its talons, and exposed itself to flight, the sharingan had driven the eye of the crow's flight

For when the crow had finally lifted its talons, and exposed itself to flight, the sharingan had driven the eye of the crow's flight. The ink bird made its sweet sail towards the driver of its mast, upon the skin of its master it settled, the small, slight claws of the haunted creature never marking the porcelain laden skin of its herald. Itachi opened the shutters of bleeding red eyes, the essence, the foreboding, and if one may remark, the sensuality that followed through in the torturous gaze of the Mangekyou. The aperture of Itachi's mind, the crow, the harbinger of many a things including that of ill fate, and the departure of the quintessence in humane society (In which, one must remark the crow followed instincts nature had laden upon it in such a manner, in which the black bird proceeded to timely follow with no question, as one was about as able to their own actions as that of a bee stinging the skin in question of its own welfare and so on, so forth) The crow flapped as it too, allowed wayward turns towards its eyes for Itachi, Itachi, the main forerunner of ill-omen. (Weasels, the poor wretches, being passed in symbolism as fate hollowing a thorned way for its passers-by)

Once the feathered creature proceeded to pass on visual gathered information it had been sent forth towards in its own ways. The swallowed, almost ominous, most dangerous significance that the gathered information presented itself as began to run, like the blood drained from the womb of the rotting mother's corpse. Itachi, (The master of all, and though, fortunate of that, due to the product of a pretty face and much forced misconduct not on Itachi's part. Though, one could argue that he agreed openly to such conduct if only to save a small part of him, in which remained, separated wholly from the act of debauchery)

Itachi there, witnessed the acts of seemingly debauched sodomy acquainting his baby brothers slight body with weeping welcomes of spurting male cream arising in a lavish abundance of grace, the strings that tied his younger baby's penis, that ever so ruthlessly, ever so calmly, and tender not ever attempting to make way into the act. Alas! Itachi noted, in a way only the delirium of mania can serve on a silver platter in front of ones own guest.

His tiny, incy brother lapped up the attention, almost as his little brother lapped his moist, child ridden tongue against the older man in years, as his only ever, little brother was forced on his knees, like a bitch to its yielding (Yet not apparent to its own) mate. It was a one night hold, and yet Itachi's blood bubbled from within, blue apertures of heart strings. Itachi's eyes followed the committed sodomy along the path his brother had laden his own debauched little, perverted body for such a child, he who was of 12 years in ripe.

Itachi's fists clenched in such a manner one could question whether another mans entrails lay of his enemies' genitals. The wind howled with ease, and frightfully calming force. The night was almost over, and Itachi's eyes had not occupied sleep in any form, or shape since the night had begun to structure.

The view had ended for the S classed criminal, just as he had begun to witness (with already soiled eyes, may one remark) his own, child of a brother grasp with the moist hands, of bidden human sweat, of the man's cock, and treading a tongue to follow its timely little old way towards the elder skin of the male addition.

Itachi was almost glad, in his own, slight insidious way. He would much rather, commit his own to hump a lamp post. (Oh, how dreary, and humiliating that would open up to be!)

Itachi allowed the crow to dissipate towards the thick, must ridden appearance of the churned smoke from his chakra. It had done its job for now and so could be put to lay rest upon itself. Unlike Itachi, dearest, foreboding Itachi and the very weariness his child brother presented. His brother, the issue, of issues in amongst an entire world of issues. (Seemingly)

When the door from the other connecting half of the apartment made its own presentation with the squeak, of creaks, Itachi neither turned, nor attempted in acknowledgment of the vocalisation of the manic of the door.

"Itachi-sama.?" Kisame, the blue, cursed creature inquired. With lack of empathy one can note.

Itachi simply stood. In all his might, in the shadow of the nights almost flight. The lack of Akatsuki cloak covering his figure commanded in shadowed shapes. Itachi remained solid in only the netting of his undershirt, and the black pants tucked neatly into the white warmers of his sandals.

Kisame chuckled, in his own knowledge of his partner's temperament. Itachi had done this, not too many of a time. If rarely, he did commit himself to such a state, it usually involved a tiny Uchiha baby and all that he entailed along the thorny road of lined memory. Of times, so long past from that of this original present.

"I see Sparky's, how shall we say…'sparked' something up?" Kisame laughed at his own, facetiousness.

Itachi leaned one side of his face towards His blue painted skinned partner, and simply stared in more than a threatening form, or way.

Kisame gazed back at his own partner, the inked shadows doting Itachi's face were dully noted, Itachi's force, form, and overall stature was of clearly defined knowledge of the shark. And so, no one ever attempted to pertain in crossing set boundary with the Uchiha.

Kisame dearly, almost sweetly hoped that a blind man would never proceed to indulge in the timely pleasure of humouring his own, at the feet of Itachi. Or otherwise looks would serve no help, nor hindrance of the denial of served pain.

"I see. I'll see you after breakfast then." Kisame exclaimed in protection for his own sake, and that of the rooms.

Itachi didn't bother, in applying any sort of retort. He didn't need to. The one useful part of being with a person for so long was for the fact of being able to read the face as words. Words, with ever changing visual formation. Kisame had only ever seen the word 'happiness' spelt on Itachi's face once. And that was of the many meagre occasions, Itachi had misleadingly led Kisame to the root of his birth. When Kisame had found the boudoir of Itachi's little less bare, with no human alerted presence within the room.

Itachi, on those very, scarce occasions of his, had set flight towards the intent on seeing his kin. His only little baby brother. To train, to sleep, to eat, to meet, to fight with himself, to tear himself asunder.

Whether Itachi wanted to cleave his brother in two, to compromise inside himself to tear his brother asunder in the sexual absolute. Was not a question in Kisame's mind which wandered very far, or very little.

Itachi and his baby brother had history no brothers had ever compromised whilst father and mother still stood bumbling about in the air of life. (At least, history that remained not only between the joint knowledge of the two brothers)

Incestuous relations only got so far, until the entire affair became frightfully messy. On both parts of the sphere of relations. Both internally, within their own little, dirty secret of affairs. And externally, within the family notion of mother and father. Auntie and Uncle.

Kisame had guessed something had been torn asunder. But it was not just Sparky's hole.

It was something of greater force and consequence entirely.

Kisame left the room with little or less sound than before his entrance. Itachi noted his now separation from his partner and proceeded to discard sense, and reason. This whole situation with Sasuke was getting troublesome for his moral. And his own reason not to storm the house asunder, pull foundations from earthen holdings, and just twist a lot of necks, and throw rocks around as children's play. Smashing skulls, and cleaving orifices in blood shedding glamour.

Itachi's own fracturing handle on his own sanity, and lack of intense emotion was all gratitude to Sasuke's inability to think before actions came out to play with the rest of the world.

And this Kyouryuu…was getting something harsh in the form of 'ill quality' in death.

Itachi turned away from the window glaring front, and twirled the cloud gracing cloak around his almost frozen body thanks noted for Sasuke's show.

The clips of his black cloak lay intact with each other, clipping into place. Itachi laid his body against the plush, softness of the mattress as his back eased into the cotton sheets, and the very tired essence of Itachi's being, depraved of sweet, gentle, come-hither sleep for his own, and took over in a heavy toll. The lids of Itachi's ink shot eyes covered his sight in darkness. Overcoming all senses of the eyes, and proving of the illusionary nature of reality, and all its senses provided by nature's comb.

Itachi could only smile to himself. Tonight. Tonight. Sweet, sweet, tonight come closer to present itself.

Itachi would have Sasuke back where he had begun. Sasuke would no longer remain a wounded animal to the jaws of the whore's playground. But remained trapped once more, as he always was. In his own perverted way towards Itachi. It wasn't Itachi that made Sasuke into such a somewhat, overzealous whore. But Sasuke's own childish sexually probing state of mind.

Itachi was about as responsible to Sasuke's perverseness as a cat to its instincts. It could not, if it ever wanted to (And oh, let us pray in all deepest prayer that the cat should neither feel ashamed for its bred instinct, nor want to change) Itachi simply acted upon the brotherly duties placed atop his perception of the word 'brother'. A brother kept an eye upon juxtaposed brother. And was it not better if it were he, Itachi, which taught Sasuke the very delight and sanctuary intended for pleasure in amongst the gratification the human body could offer.

Some children very much learnt the pleasure district of the feeling in amongst the nerves of their bodies at a later age than that of his 7 year old brother. Yes, yes. Indeed they did. But alas, Sasuke was to remain in the very minute few, in the few children whom sought the pleasure covered blankets of the nerves at such, youth ridden ages.

Sasuke committed to masturbate when he was 7

_The creamy resolute of male essence splattered against the child's stomach, and reaching towards his face as the tongue, peeking out from unbidden, caves of childish prose to lick at the strands, ribbons, and sewn pieces of creamy liquid.__ His chubby fingers milked his now flaccid, tiny penis of its very essence of his sex. Squeezing it and trying just, with fervour to force more to come from its weakened tip, adorned with barely a slit of parted skin._

_He wanted more._

Sasuke committed to oral sex when he was 7

_The creamy resolute of male essence burst inside the heat, the most dutiful, beautifully crafted temperature of the young child's throat, the feeling of tongue against pulsing underside of Itachi's unyielding, forever more__ unutterably gracious sex. The semen burst inside and continued to do so, as if end had no reason to be mentioned in the said situation…The boy's throat burned in grace as his brother's semen spurt in gracious greed to be spilt and fed to its younger disparity. _

_Sasuke greedily lapped at the elder Uchiha's seed as he emptied himself inside the warmth of the child's mouth. Sasuke in a frenzy kept latched at the sex as he, in all honesty, oh sweetest attempts to milk it like a child to a breast-feed of a mother._

_He wanted more._

Sasuke committed to fingering his own sweet hole when he was 7

_He wanted more._

Sasuke committed to impalement of his brother's sex when he was 7

_He wanted more._

Were it not better if it was he, who taught Sasuke the use of mouth to sex, and sex to orifice than if Sasuke were to allude it towards some debauched citizen stewing in his own piss of his own unscrupulous substance in reputation among the village. (Or cardboard box depending almost entirely on his luck) with god knows what various accounted for sexually transmitted infection picked up from committing to sexual intercourse with a rat's corpse?

Itachi finally allowed sweetest of sweet sleep to sprinkle across his black swivelled eyes, gazing in the very awareness of dreams to your own subconscious dwelling inside the blank abyss of desire.

**LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE****LINELINELINE**

The city was bustling, moving, back, and forth, right and left, upwards, downwards, and some other way in which one could describe it. Skywards? Floor wards? Who in Lucifer's kingdom really knew what way they were all focused on reaching.

Sasuke could only grumble as the mass of people came to, and fro, like a churning, complaining stomach of a sickly sailor. Sasuke pushed his way through, and fro.

All he really wanted was a god dammn tomato. That was all. One of the very sparse delights he allowed himself to indulge in from the time of his day off. (If you could call such quick time passing days that) Sasuke, as an Oiran was given openly one day off a month. And that was the very cruel reality of his job. But at least he got some sort of acquittal from the house of delight. An Oiran needed a slice of life, needed to be allowed at least some connection with the world they had been born into. To forget about others needs, to forget the abundance of serving patrons of distinguished and magnificent birth.

This was such a day in which Sasuke could float happily among.

If he could only find a god dammn tomato.

When Sasuke had finally managed to find a curator amongst the crowd of exotic fruits, bumbling parrots and dead whores on a stick, the platter of tomato bodies lay pleasantly in their aura of ruby drenched coats. Like tiny nymphets the seductive plump children lay sitting in all their glorified taste and lack of aroma. Sasuke took a heavy breath and sighed in absolute agony.

Why, you ask dearest reader?

Well. Simply put.

Some imbecile of a human figure had decided to pinch and grope at the rump of the black haired Oiran. It was then that the effects of tense human shouts, and grumbling children began to run against his nerves exhaustion the patience like a badger to a tree trunk.

Suddenly, in all the more splendour of the young ninja's skills Sasuke had the culprit in his grasp in the split seconds of 2. He grabbed the grubby hand from behind him, flipped him onto the somewhat splintered surface of the oak display and the Sasuke had pinned a somewhat young man against the poor shocked, pissing his pants by now curator who sat their gawking. Thinking that mothers advice to become a postman sounded even better than it had in the beginning of the suggestion. Sasuke managed to ply his pelvis against the pelvis of the young man. The man seemed to jump around the ripe ages of his late twenties, and appeared shocked from the utter embarrassment of being bested by a 12 year old Oiran. Who spent their days dancing with the feathers of elegance, and the cotton tail of etiquette. Sasuke glared daggers at the man, Sasuke begun to crush his pelvis against the mans.

"Ah-AH! OKAY! I-AH!" The man began in all earnest attempts of his physical form to squirm beneath the 12 year old.

Sasuke began to lean foreword to the mans face.

The crowd by now had thought it better to have stuck their heads in each other's mouths to avoid conflict. Though, hiding all excitement of the visionary picture of a young boy besting an older man by crushing his own genital neighbourhood with his own was a somewhat, secretly enjoyed fantastical castle in the sky for them.

Sasuke breathed onto the mans face as he spoke.

"Don't you dare touch me again…you do that ever again, and I'll shove a basket down every orifice you have." Sasuke's eyes glimmered scents, and shades of malice, and intents of misconduct.

The man gulped and then his hand came from behind him holding what appeared to be a scroll of some sort.

"T-Thi-This i-is…f-for y-you s-sir…" The mans tongue tied and tied again. What a funny little tongue.

Sasuke looked at him. Never breaking contact and he grabbed the scroll from the mans soiled hands.

Sasuke moved his body off of the man and then grabbed a tomato from the stall basket. He turned to the curator whom inside his little conscious was thinking of a name for his post office business.

"May I please buy this?"

The curator shivered and gave it to Sasuke for free as long as he halted in his business of slapping randoms upon his very petit stall.

Sasuke could only agree to such a strange request from such a strange little man.

**LINE**

Sasuke sat upon two crates beside an empty stall with the desire of a space lacking people. Seclusion was his most fervent desire of all in his twirling petit mind, as being an Oiran constantly held in its little palm the need to be with people. Lack seclusion from others and such. It was hardly a job you could down alone. Separated from ignorant human contact.

Sasuke finished the bright red tomato, his face splashed with red little juices, and seeds abounding upon the pale of his skin, he had always found the little fat children hard to eat without getting it all over his fair face and hair. The bloody things just burst like bombs straight as his little teeth sunk into their leathered skin.

He took the note from the groping man and unwound it from its strings and begun to roll it downwards, placing it in front of his lithe face.

And it read such:

_Dear Sasuke_

_I found the night of our revealment, and passionate grazes very much undiluted and highly pleasing. With the utmost praise, I must give your service. I do hope, I did not cause bruising, or uphold any discomfort that was in a sense, bruising mentally and scarring you physically. It was not my means to. If I did, I can only offer my forgiveness for such brutality. But you must know the very barefaced affect that you have amongst the masculine gender, it causes one to feel as though he were surrounded by burning opium poppies, and alcoholic scents wafting happily in the nostril cavities._

_You are by far, the very epitome of Venus, and perhaps more._

_I only wish I had you for a while longer than what a certain man had denied me of. Forgive me, but I must admit that I will come back for you. I hope to buy you permanently and bring you to my home and present you as my mistress._

_I do hope with all my heart, this remains a possibility._

_Your faithful servant and love:_

_Kyouryuu Lord of Ryuu castle._

Oh, well. Wasn't that the most awesome surprise ever?

Sasuke noted all the ill-fortune he now had in his life:

His parents were dead. Not to mention his whole clan.

He ditched his own village.

Orochimaru. (Need he say more?)

Clan's still dead.

His brother was an ex-nin who killed his complete clan.

Mum and dad. Still dead.

He was a whore. Yes!

He was being stalked by a lord. Even better!

Yup. Clan still dead.

Sasuke sighed heavily, exerting all frustration and annoyance at the mans blatant admission of love, who the hell did the man think he was?! He was a lord, yes. That was most painfully obvious. He had money. Yes. But he also had a family. Of course, family for a lord was like a lead pencil. You buy it sharp, and once its point has reached dull then you were about as bothered to sharpen it as you were bothered to clean the potatoes. Screw the cleaning. I want the eating.

Sasuke's undiluted impression of Kyouryuu was that the man was into the much combusted path of romanticists. Dual personas, kidnappers, strong colours, full bodies such and such. Everything was romantic, and nothing was disgusting. The man held his head high, and believed himself to be equal for everything and everyone. The man was into the whole clichéd eloping and shit like that.

People perving upon others whilst bathing. Steamy incestual counters. 'if it's so wrong, why does it feel so right?' Lovers denying the other of having the choice of hating their passionate embraces remarking that they actually 'do like it they just don't realize it'. And then two pages later they fall head over heels for the rapist. Kidnappers being actual gentlemen and having terrible pasts and thus, in the process of such terror the kidnapped becomes the lover.

Who knew having a really fucked up life made people go.

'Holy crap. You're hot.'

If one were to encounter a lady and admit that he had a wonderful family orientated life filled with joyful grins, and happy birthdays followed by Christmases of undiluted fantasy they most would have replied:

'Oh. Really? Great.'

Sasuke found society to be most strange in all accounts of the human brain. Perhaps Sasuke weren't human. And he was an alien in the guise of a human shell. The shell was harsh, tight, and it simply didn't fit anymore. Not that it ever did, but anywho, anyway. Perhaps Sasuke were living in a different life not intended for his soul. Just his body. Perhaps, in a very insidious way fate tortured him because Sasuke tortured fate by going completely against it and stealing a dead person's body.

Sasuke looked up to the sky and the ink blotched figure of a soaring crow took the fancy of his ebony eyes.

Sasuke cocked his head as he followed the slight bird flying in circles.

Someone was painting the sky with ink birds.

Sasuke smiled as the creature flew.

Sasuke felt as though he were the crow.

Flying in utter circles.

**LINE**

"GAH!!"

The orange blobbed boy tripped once more against a sturdy log upon the path.

Kakashi sighed, once more in the sturdy air as this was the umpteenth time the poor ninja had fallen. Mostly by the folly of his own tricky feet.

"SENSEI!!" Naruto whined "THESE LOGS ARE EVERYWHERE! God dammnit…"

Naruto kicked the log as though it had earned a kick from the Kitsune-boy, the log had its vengeance as it lodged itself foreword and tripped the boy from behind.

"GAH!!"

Kakashi's fair hand slapped toward his face and he groaned.

This trip had hardly lasted a mere 30 minutes. And Naruto was losing his sense to logs.

Such is life…

**LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE**

…wow. This took ages to finish. Sorry it took so long; Alou and I took a bit of a hiatus for a reason of unknown…WHY DID WE?? I DON'T KNOW!! GAH

Sorry if this chapter was pretty useless.

Probably was.

Oh well.

Well just cry about it.

GAH

I want a pet crow. GAH

Alou wants a pet elephant!

What the hell…


End file.
